Ascending Lauren Ch. 23

This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more.

Warning: subject matter includes hotwife/cuckold/group sex topics. This story is tagged as such, so if you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.

Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Anything depicted has no relation to past or current people and events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.

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Saturday, February 17th. Four days to go.

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As sunlight poured into Lauren Miller's Miami high-rise bedroom, Amy Rosinner squinted towards the nightstand where her charging phone was vibrating. Laying prone on her stomach, the cute twenty-six-year-old raised her head and swiveled her neck, not sure where she was. Looking to the left toward the sounds of soft snoring, she saw her best friend, twenty-two years her senior, on her belly and out to the world.

Fumbling for the phone, and dropping it at least once on the table, she managed to pull it onto the pillow and look at the screen.

Corey Miller. 

Brushing her long blonde curls from her face with one hand, Amy figured Lauren would want her to pick up.

"Thank God," Corey shouted, not even letting her get out a greeting. "Are you with Lauren? Is she okay?"

"Jeeesh, yes. Cool your jets. And I'm doing okay too, thanks for asking."

The worried husband ignored the sarcasm. "Where are you?"

"At Lauren's." Then, fully aware of the sixty-one-year-old's kink, added, "In bed. Together."

Hearing no response, she stared at the phone, a few floaters blurring her hungover vision. "What time is it?"

"Eight. Well, nine your time."

The girl let out a groan. They'd only gotten back to the apartment a few hours ago. After Sadistic Beaver's tour bus took off for South Carolina around two in the morning, they ride shared back to Lauren's, made a pizza, and fell asleep. But not before making love again. In fact, that monstrosity of a vibrator her friend called The Chairman was still nestled somewhere in the sheets between them.

"Put her on."

"She's still sleeping. I can ask her to call you back."

"What? Fuck no, I've been worried about her all night. Let me speak to her."

Amy exhaled heavily, blowing a golden tress from her eyes. Rubbing her neck, she nudged the hot brunette beside her. Damn, that collar had chafed the skin.

"Wakey, wakey, lover. It's your hubby."

Corey swallowed hard. Hearing anyone call his wife 'lover' was stirring, even when it was a woman. There was a yawn and the sound of someone stretching, followed by some whispers. Finally, he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Lauren's voice.

"Hi babe," she breathed weakly into the phone. "What's up?"

"What's up? Jesus, I've been trying to get a hold of both of you all night. Where have you been?"

The Iowan wife blinked her eyes. That took a little processing. Concert. Winter Death. Razor Rodgers. Sadistic Beaver...tour bus...leashes...um...gangbang.

"Oh, you know. Here and there. Where are you?"

"In our master bedroom making the bed. The staging for the open house tomorrow is today." Not yet ready to let go of her radio silence, he asked, "Was your phone dead?"

Lauren recalled giving her cell up as part of the rules on the tour bus.

"Not exactly."

Still nude from her and Amy's late-night tryst, she sat up on the mattress, drawing her knees to her chest, and clung to the sheet to shield her small breasts from the morning chill. As Lauren proceeded to tell her befuddled husband how the friends had hung out on the warm-up band's tour coach, the young blonde inched up behind her, brushed the older woman's black hair out of the way, and rubbed her delicate shoulders.

"I see," Corey drew a deep breath. "My bet would have been on you hanging with Winter Death, if anyone."

"Oh, well...I did. Sort of. Razor Rodgers gave me a tour of his bus too."

There was dead air on the other side.

"Corey? Are you there?"

"Ye...yeah. Pretty...pretty cool, huh?"

"I guess. Nothing special. We had a beer, I saw him get undressed and I left. Jesus, he's in worse shape than you are."

Corey didn't know if that was a compliment or not. "But he looks so fit."

"All illusion at that age, I guess. He did have a bigger dick than you though."

"You saw Razor Rodger's dick?"

"Just the outline through his pants. Still packing more than you at any age, I'd say."

Amy giggled at that.

"What happened next?" Corey asked, his breathing heavier.

"Nothing. The guy was a pig. I went to find Amy."

"In Sadistic Beaver's bus?"

"Yeah, one of them. Turns out, Liam, Pete, and Colt were a lot of fun."

Corey's mouth began to run dry. Now she was on a first-name basis with a metal band.

"They were?"

"Fuck yeah. Off the chain."

The construction manager's stomach tightened. "How off the chain?"

Amy just couldn't control herself as she chewed on Lauren's earlobe. The blonde's pussy was getting wet again just thinking about the previous night.

"We fucked 'em all!"

Lauren's eyes widened, hands covering her mouth to keep from laughing. After about fifteen seconds Corey cleared his throat.

"All...all of them?"

"Well, no. Just the singer, bassist, and drummer."

"And road manager too," Amy reminded her pal.

"Well, that was just a handjob."

Fortunate enough to be standing next to his bed, Corey sat down, feeling a bit faint. With Lauren going back to Florida, he had hoped to give his mind - and fetish - a brief respite. Suddenly now, that was dashed as the savory mix of emotions reared their head. Jealousy and arousal began to manifest themselves as an undeniable twinge in his groin. But wait, hadn't she and Amy spoofed him one time before?

"I don't believe you."

There was a rustling of sheets. Back in Lauren's bedroom, Amy was trying to slip a hand under the covers and massage the older woman's pussy.

"They liked her red fox tattoo too," the blonde teased. "You know, this cute one above her pussy? The one I have my hand on right now."

Corey leaned against the bed's headboard in his empty Des Moines home. He could hear the girls giggle and whisper.

"Go on," Amy was saying, "Tell him about it You know he wants to hear it."

"Right now?" 

"You got something else to do?"

"I don't know..."

"They fucked us good," the secretary spoke up, making sure Corey could hear. "Those young bucks gave your wife something she will never forget."

"AMY!"

"Corey, go out to Sadistic Beaver's website."

The beleaguered husband simply stared at his phone.

"Do it, go to sadisticbeaver.com and pull it up."

Although he didn't know it, the women began to make out on the other side of the phone.

"O...okay, I'm there."

What he saw made his heart sink. Four leather-clad metal musicians with menacing smiles and buff bods. It's what Winter Death used to look like back in the day.

"Do you see them?"

"Yeah. They look...um...healthy. Larger than life."

"Oh, they were larger than life, I can tell you that. Larger than you, anyway."

More giggles.

"Those are the ones your little wife took all ways to Sunday, cuck. Smashed her cunt and mouth for hours."

Corey's thoughts went to girls and the band members all on a bed together, engaged in some big ass, wild orgy. In his mind, he saw them intertwined, moaning and gasping, the aroma of sweat and sex filling the air.

"Did you like those big dicks, hon?" Amy asked her friend.

Lauren sighed as the blonde slipped a finger into her once again wet hole. "Yessss."

"Larger than your hubby here?"

"That wouldn't take much," the brunette snickered. She knew where the young girl was going with this.

"I'm not that small," Corey protested weakly.

"You just go on thinking that, babe."

"Dude?" Amy goaded. "That small, huh?"

Lauren crooked her neck to kiss her again. "Maybe you should ask Chloe."

Amy looked surprised. "Well, well, ain't you the stud, keeping up with a teenage stripper. Are you a blue pill man?"

Corey said nothing.

"Hardly," Lauren snickered again. "More like faster than a speeding bullet."

"Ho ho, a two-pump chump, eh? Wait a minute. Not fair. Chloe got to see it. I do too."

"See what?"

"You hubby's cock."

"Believe me, it's nothing special." Lauren dismissed it, smiling to herself when she heard Corey groan.

The youngster took her phone and converted the audio call to video. It took a second for Corey to answer as he was too busy sliding his cotton pants off and retrieving the cardboard toilet paper roll from the nightstand; the one he'd rigged last night with an inner hosiery lining. To his sordid delight, Amy and Lauren's bright faces filled the screen. To his chagrin, they were in bed together. And very, very naked.

"Me first," the blonde tittered as she held the device away from her body. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

What Amy didn't know was that Corey had already seen her in all her glory when she and Lauren had fucked Tony and Tommy at Jack Carter's apartment. Had a video of it too. Still, the blonde's golden mane flowing gracefully over large and firm breasts was a sight to see. He watched in awe as the camera panned down passed her tummy and to a whitish tuft of pubic hair.

"You like?"

He could only nod.

The video became shaky and blurry as Amy leaned the phone against a lamp on the nightstand. As she retreated to the mattress, Corey could see her kneel behind Lauren, enveloping the office manager in her arms. After watching the women enjoy a long kiss, the blonde put a hand on each of her coworker's knees and slowly spread her legs. The small, colorful fox-wrapped-in-tail contrasted the whiteness of the area just above the crack of her bald slit. 

"This is where they were last night, Corey," Amy purred, her index and middle finger spreading Lauren's butterfly, exposing the deep pink of her well-used hole. "This is where three strange cocks blew their load, making your wife cum again and again."

Trembling with excitement, Corey couldn't stand it any longer. He carefully slid the makeshift toilet paper roll over his erect six inches, watching the tip of it come out the other side and press against the hosiery he had lined it with. Puffing it out a bit made the nylon act like the reservoir of a condom. It felt incredible.

But perhaps he shouldn't have done so.

"Now it's your turn, lover," the young girl exclaimed, in a mocking, breathless, lusty tone. "Show me."

The giggles that came through the tinny speaker wrapped their spiny fingers around his heart and crushed it. And yet, his dick was rock hard. Yeah, and it was fucking a cardboard tube.

Shit.

He tried to point the phone somewhere else, but fumbled about, inadvertently showing his groin...and his dick, tightly nestled within a toilet paper roll, the hosiery-covered head peeking through one end.

Busted. 

On the other end of the line, there was a burst of raucous and amused laughter, giggles echoing throughout the bedroom. Amy could hardly stop laughing. "Very creative. Our very own Toilet Casanova."

Corey's face was flushed with embarrassment as Amy knelt behind Lauren, slipped her fingers between the older woman's thighs, and penetrated her wet and eager pussy in one push. A shudder of pleasure sped through Lauren's body, moans filling the room.

"Oh, by the way," Amy purred, her fingers delving deeper into Lauren's quivering depths, "you may want to hold onto that contraption when you come down here. Believe me, that's the only hole your pathetic dick's gonna get for a while."

Corey opened his mouth, a desperate groan escaping his lips. It was a mixture of need and abhorrence.

"Go on, fuck your little tube, Corey," Amy purred. "Fuck it hard for us."

Gripping the hosiery-lined cardboard roll tighter, his hand moving with urgency and determination. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. With each stroke the need to cum intensified, the nylon teasing his sensitive skin. The girls could hear the aroused husband gasping for air.

"Look at her, look at your slut wife," Amy urged.

Tearing his gaze away from his jerking off, Corey squinted at the small screen. There, Amy was still behind Lauren, relentlessly finger fucking her, plunging three fingers in and out of the brunette's wet and eager cunt. Lauren's long, disheveled black hair tumbled around her face, her head thrown back in unbridled pleasure.

"Look at her, Corey," she urged. "Doesn't she look hot?"

It was hard to disagree. Lauren's body writhed with each powerful thrust of Amy's hand, her small, perky tits bouncing and jiggling with every push. The faster her friend's fingers flew, the more Lauren thrashed about, moans and groans gauging the heat that was surging through her body. Amy rested her chin on Lauren's shoulders and continued to goad Corey.

"Watch your filthy wife cum, Corey!" Amy's voice rang out, her fingers never faltering, driving Lauren closer to the edge with each forceful thrust.

Corey's eyes were now fixated on the screen while he kept pumping his cock into the toilet paper roll. Lauren's cries filled the room, escaping from deep within her as her body shuddered with the building anticipation.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!" she yelled, not caring if her neighbors heard. Hips began to buck uncontrollably, grinding her pussy into Amy's skilled hands, seeking that trigger that would push her over the cliff.

And it was working. The Rekrap executive's movements grew more erratic at the hands of the legal secretary. Her pelvis gyrated with animalistic motion, as tremors rippled through her body.

"Gonna cum!" Lauren announced, just before letting go with a primal howl, her torso convulsing with powerful spasms, her pussy juices cascading around Amy's fingers.

Amy, playing her role to a tee, leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Lauren's ear as she whispered in a sultry tone, "You're such a fucking slut, Laur. And your pathetic husband gets off watching you being pleasured by someone else."

Lauren's body writhed beneath the girl's touch, her moans filling the room. The waves of pleasure continued to ripple through her, driving her toward an earth-shattering climax. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, grinding as her pussy clenched around the invading fingers, desperate for release.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Lauren's cries grew louder, mingling with the sounds of wet hands attacking her cunt. Then suddenly, her face contorted with ecstasy as her orgasm exploded, her body tensing, her mouth opening for a scream that sounded through the entire apartment. Amy felt the powerful contraction on her fingers, walls collapsing and expanding, seemingly all at once.

Corey too could no longer hold back. The sight of Lauren writhing and moaning, pussy grinding into Amy's skilled fingers, ignited his release. Breathing labored, his cock throbbed incessantly at the tube. With each stroke, the encased dick enlarged, straining against the makeshift cardboard, threatening to burst it. The pressure kept building, ready to explode.

"Ahhhhhhhhh FUCK. God yes!" Corey uttered as he came, orgasm exploding, sending thick ropes of white, milky cum surging through the hosiery lining only to be held back - somewhat - by the Jerry-rigged reservoir. The rest seeped through the nylon and created a sticky mess on his thighs and hand. Looking at the phone, Lauren's body lay limp and sated in Amy's arms, her chest rising and falling. The blonde slowly withdrew from Lauren's wetness and licked her fingers.

"Take one last look at your slut wife, you poor bastard," Amy told him with little pity, reaching for her phone to hang up.

"It's time to go. My turn...again."

+++++

That afternoon, after Amy left with a long, drawn-out kiss, Lauren decided to go shopping in the downtown district, visiting an eclectic variety of stores. There was a time not so long ago when she would avoid what she called the 'slut-wear' sections of department stores and boutiques. But not so anymore. More daring now, and certainly bolder, her first stop was a trendy boutique called "Sultry Secrets." With its provocative lingerie and seductive apparel, and the previous evening still fresh in her mind, the store seemed like the perfect place for her to explore her sensual side. She perused the racks, running her fingers over delicate lace bras, skimpy panties, and alluring babydolls. Unable to resist the temptation, she selected a sheer black lace teddy that hugged her curves in all the right places, thinking it would be a perfect way to welcome Corey home.

Next stop was the high-end fashion outlet "Siren's Silhouette." Remembering Myles' cruise the next day, Lauren selected an absolutely scorching black one-shoulder polka dot mesh bodysuit to wear with a matching vinyl skirt. She loved how the sheer fabric hugged her figure in all the right places. A tube bralette, visible just beneath the mesh, and a pair of sexy stilettos would surely garner attention.

Continuing down the boulevard, Lauren paused in front of a nondescript store, identified only by a small sign on the door: "Leather & Lace." Edgy, it featured alternative and fetish-inspired clothing that catered to all sorts of kinks. Curious, Lauren perused several aisles displaying an assortment of pain and pleasure-related toys. Feather ticklers, riding crops, paddles, including leashes and collars. Memories of surrendering control to those musicians the night before, allowing them to lead her and Amy around, began making her wet. She could almost feel the soft leather collar around her neck again, and the feeling of being restrained.

Standing there amongst the tools of dominance and submission, Lauren couldn't help but ponder the paradox she found herself in. On one hand, she loved enabling Corey's fetish, and to do that she had to be the one in control. On the other, last night showed just how addicted she was to raw, masculine energy; a play toy for men who did as they wished. Not that it was his fault, but her husband was no longer capable of commanding that type of presence in bed.

As the day wore on, Lauren hit pretty much every other shop, including one showcasing exotic and erotic fashion. Intrigued, Lauren explored racks filled with seductive costumes, from naughty schoolgirl outfits to provocative French maid ensembles. Her eyes landed on a stunning black satin bustier paired with a matching garter belt and fishnet stockings. Would that not be the perfect way to end a date, perhaps with Alex?

Finally, the afternoon grew long, and the many packages were cutting into her hands. Why did they have to use such small strings for handles? Trudging along wearily, the scorching sun beating her down and sapping her energy, she began looking for a better route to her building. A taxi didn't make sense since it was just blocks away. Remembering an alleyway ahead, the pretty executive turned off the main street and looked down the small path to the other end, where the bustling street she lived awaited. From where she was standing, there only appeared to be a few dumpsters and restaurant service doors between her and the other side. Nothing too foreboding.

This all changed about forty yards in. Somehow, the shadows now grew deeper, casting an eclipse-like veil over the once inviting shortcut. Doubt crept into her mind as various odd noises emanating from who knows where peppered her senses. Quickening her pace, her heart pounded with each step, hoping to quickly escape the creepy mistake. Suddenly, a sound echoed behind her--a faint but distinct noise that made her blood run cold. She spun around and her eyes widened in alarm. Two menacing figures, who she could only describe as thugs, were closing in on her, their expressions not at all friendly. As the pair came closer, Lauren could see they were two Latino teenagers with tattoos on their necks. Her heart raced, and for the first time in a long time, she felt a surge of real fear.