Chronicles of a Shared Wife Ch. 20.5

Initially sucking the bell, our mouthes joining from either side, I feel Rita's tongue against my own...her saliva mixed in with John's precum...gazing at our man lustily while we push him further into erotic bliss.

Then, when I know he's getting close I grasp the base of his cock below the scrotum and squeeze tight, squashing his balls up the stiff shaft.

"Whoa... look at that!" Rita comments excitedly. We are both gazing at John's sack inches away...the two ripe plums within bulging against their stretched packaging...an obvious target.

Letting my focus of attention wander up the throbbing shaft, past the bright pink glistening bell, up to John gazing back down at us. My hubby is still describing with repeated expletives how he can't believe what's happening.

He's stroking both our heads, filtering splayed fingers through our hair, seemingly oblivious to what we are saying...only our actions are noticed.

I've never seen him like this before, completely gone. He's been super excited many times watching me being taken by another man, but this is something else.

Taking the initiative I give instruction to Rita, "You get his balls...I'll take the end."

Staring with both excitement and pure animal lust, I briefly pause to observe Rita greedily tucking into my hubby's balls before I too lower my head and take him into my mouth, eager tongue wriggling.

"Oh shit!...shit...shit...fuck!...fuckin ell!...oh my god."

John's desperate words fill the room as he prepares to spill, ever more animated, beginning to hump and clench my hair tightly...then.

"Aarrgh!"

A familiar, loud high pitched squeal of pure delight, followed by the pulsing flow of warm fluid over my tongue.

As I begin to swallow John at last goes silent, every muscle taught, I can feel him trembling.

I'm aware of Rita stopping what she's doing and raising her head...watching me. I feel so deliciously dirty doing this in front of my friend and as if to reinforce this most erotic sensation Rita crudely comments, expressing her distaste.

"Urgh...you dirty cow!"

That Rita finds the act dirty, only arouses more, encouraging me to suck harder and emit a nasal moan... a satisfying purr.

Feeling rather proud of myself I continue to drain John's balls while she looks on. Eventually he dries up and I withdraw a little way looking to my side at a shocked Rita, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Yuk!...I don't know how you can do that." She says, glancing from me to John's glistening bell.

Squeezing his shrinking shaft, drawing my hand upwards a large glob of pearly goo emerges from the tip and slowly oozes downwards, grinning I offer my friend a lick.

"Get lost ya dirty sod...I don't like it." Rita's revulsion is bringing out the show off in me and I can't help but giggle before going in once more and licking the spunk off, taking my time and then exaggerating the swallow with a, 'haaa' afterwards.

Rita looks on wincing, "It's a shame you don't like it but...there's more for me..."

Turning my confident smile upwards toward John I continue, "...John likes it when I do that don't you sweetie?"

The words are out my mouth before I look at him and when my gaze does fall upon hubby I abruptly halt my question and ask another, "Bloody ell!...are you alright love?"

For John's face is bright red and sweaty, in fact his whole upper body is slick. He's breathing hard and staring wearily down at us. As I watch, he slowly begins to grin through the heavy breaths, a very happy content expression.

Before I can say anything else John manages a broken sentence, "Oh my god...that...that was...un...fuckin...believable...thank you...you two are amazing."

My hubby's tired satisfaction and grateful words tickle us both and we descend into giggles, joined half heartedly by John who does take a little while to recover from his intense experience.

During conversation afterwards he assures us both that it was the most powerful climax he's ever experienced and to use his own description nearly 'took my head off'.

Our combined affections have taken it out of dear old hubby, but he does eventually recover and we all go upstairs together for more fun, this time in the usual separate room manner.

With the knowledge that I'll probably only get visited once by John, I opt for some initial solo pleasure using my favourite dildo, a 7" pink 'real feel' beauty.

I've gotten myself so worked up pleasuring hubby together with Rita, it doesn't take long to reach a leg shaking climax while listening to the exciting sounds coming from our bedroom as John pummels my friend, after which of course, it's my turn and I don't waste it.

Suffice to say that my light hearted prophecy whispered to Rita the previous sunday is spot on, John really is walking with a limp the next morning.

And this becomes our new routine, myself and Rita lavishing affection upon John together, then afterwards retiring to separate bedrooms where we enjoy him by ourselves.

The two 'aunties' role play fantasy is explored in detail, John reveling in his part as the young inexperienced nephew falling easy prey to his predatory relatives.

Over the coming weeks and months Rita develops greater confidence in her self, allowing for more adventurous sessions at home and also out and about.

One example for instance would be the time we wanked John off under the table while sat at a booth in a quiet country pub.

Staying with the outdoors theme we regularly enjoyed car fun and began to take daring chances by performing oral on hubby in public places, quiet corners of supermarket car parks for example.

At home we enjoyed fun and games like blowjob roulette. Sitting each side of a nude John each of us would take turns sucking his cock, bobbing our heads a counted twenty times at which point the other would immediately take over, and so on until one of us got the cream...unfortunately for Rita it seemed to be her more often than me.

She'd let John do it in her mouth but then dribble it out, usually with a disgusted grimace etched on her face that reduced me to fits of giggles.

This is how things were with the three of us for several months, saturday night's were ours to explore and enjoy each other.

But, unfortunately for Rita this period of time wasn't all good. She was still suffering at the hands of evil hubby Carl. Our friend would occasionally turn up on a saturday night with a fresh injury. At work too during the week Rita would arrive for her shift with a limp or some part of her body bandaged up, bruised etc.

Despite our efforts to persuade her to leave him, it seemed that Rita was destined always to be a slave to her own fears and twisted loyalties to Carl.

And that, is probably how things would have remained for a long time, were it not for something that happened just a week before christmas day, something out of the blue and initially causing a negative reaction from Rita...but ultimately changing her life for ever.

**

"Here...look at this." Sitting across from Rita in a quiet corner of the canteen, I'd been about to ask her what was wrong before she'd spoken. Rita had been in a mood the whole afternoon, quiet and looking peeved, I thought the usual culprit had been up to his cruel tricks but this was different, my friend being more angry than upset.

She withdraws a stamped envelope from her smock and passes it to me. It's been roughly torn open and I note there is an aberdeen post mark, inside is a christmas card and within that two folded sheets of writing paper covered with text. Quickly gazing at the message inside the card it reads, 'merry christmas Rita...love and best wishes from Beryl and family'.

Hesitating while glancing up at her, she impatiently urges me on to read the letter, "Go on...you can read it...read what the bitch has to say...unbelievable!"

It appears I've discovered the source of her bad mood...

Beginning to read the letter, it's from Rita's estranged sister Beryl, whom she had a big fall out with years earlier. In it, Beryl explains that she's recently lost her husband and going through the grieving process has made her realise how short life is and how precious loved ones are.

To cut it short, Beryl wants to bury the hatchet and become friends with Rita once more, she wants her sister back.

Looking back up at a fuming Rita, "So this is what you've been ratty about all day?"

Over exaggerating a confused look of disbelief as I say it probably doesn't help the situation but I can't stop myself. It angers me how Rita always manages to turn something positive upside down, no doubt due to years of abuse living with Carl.

It's as though she can't be happy or have anything good happen to her...in her mind that would be wrong.

Trying hard to make Rita see sense I don't hold back and tell her exactly what I think, "I'm sorry love but I can't see anything wrong with this...she's genuinely reaching out to you...she even apologises...I think you should..."

She abruptly interrupts with a hissed tirade that although delivered in quiet tone still attracts the attention of nearby kitchen staff, "You know what the last thing that bitch had to say to me?...eh?...do you?...I'll tell you shall I?...it was that I deserved everything I got and I was stupid for staying with him...and now...now she wants to be friends!"

There's a brief pause while she snatches the letter and card from me, "I'll show you what I should do with this."

Tearing the card and letter up in front of me, Rita adds, "I knew you'd take her side I shouldn't have shown you in the first place."

Shocked at her display I'm momentarily stunned but soon come to my senses and try to calm the situation, "Look I'm not taking sides alright?... it just strikes me that..."

My sentence is cut off half way through by a cruel look from Rita that cuts deep as she gets up from her chair and turns to walk away, throwing the screwed up letter and card into a nearby bin as she goes.

Our first proper argument leaves me feeling hurt and frustrated, I'd never seen her look at me like that before and I hoped I never would again.

Sitting there stunned for a moment, slowly gathering my thoughts. As I begin calming down my gaze settles on the bin Rita threw her sisters letter into...and it suddenly becomes clear...what I need to do.

**

"No...I think it's a five...you could try both...five first then three?" John says, scrutinising the torn letter that now rests atop our kitchen table.

After arriving back home that evening I'd explained what had happened involving Rita at work, my hubby being as surprised as me at her aggressive behaviour, she had always been so meek with us.

Obviously this issue with her sister had provoked something dark and brooding within our friend, she'd avoided me for the rest of the shift and I hadn't had a chance to speak to her before she went home. All we could do was hope things would be better tommorow.

That, and what I was about to do now.

While reading Beryl's letter earlier I'd noticed that it not only had her address on but also a mobile number.

When I'd gathered myself together after Rita's outburst I retrieved the torn letter from the bin, seeing an opportunity in opening communication. If I could contact Beryl I might be able to somehow get the two sisters talking, obviously Beryl was keen so we were already half way there.

Rita had always been very private about her past family life, I knew she had no children and understood she only had one sibling, and with both parents passed on it appeared that Beryl may be her only close relative, also she knew of the dire situation between her sister and Carl. So an ally, another voice of reason to help wake our friend...hopefully.

And now I stood phone in hand, poised to make the first move.

When Rita had angrily torn the letter up a tear had gone through the phone number and obscured one of the digits which we decided was either a five or three, swallowing, my heart picking up pace I decided to try the five combination first.

Dialling, there's a brief delay before a loud ring tone is heard, glancing at John and managing a nervous smile just before a woman's husky voice is heard saying 'hello', swallowing again this time harder, my throat feeling dry I begin, "Hi...is this Beryl?"

The husky voice replies in the affirmative and I continue, "Hi Beryl...my name's Pippa... erm...you don't know me but I'm a close friend of your sister's...Rita."

There follows a long pause, and I'm about to speak again but Beryl beats me to it, "Hello Pippa...it's nice to make your acquaintance...she...she didn't like my letter did she?"

And this perceptive response from Beryl is the beginning of a long conversation, one that paints Rita in a different light and ultimately highlights just how damaged and fragile the woman is.

Beryl sounds like a nice lady and I get on well with her from the outset, she being just as frustrated with Rita as I am gives us something in common. I don't tell her exactly how serious the situation is but do paint a picture of her sister being in trouble and needing help.

I also downplay Rita's ferocious response to Beryl's heartfelt letter.

She asks me a lot of questions, to which I answer most truthfully, leaving out some of the more worrying details regarding her sisters predicament.

And I too have questions of my own. By the end of our sometimes emotional chat, I've learnt that Beryl moved up from yorkshire to scotland twenty odd years earlier, having married a wealthy man almost thirty years her senior who's recent passing had prompted the first contact with her sister in many years.

Beryl runs a successful property devopment company her late husband began, along with her son and daughter, Rita's nephew and niece whom she hasn't seen since they were little.

I also learn that Beryl has tried many times in the past to make Rita see sense about Carl, she even offered her sister rent free accommodation up in scotland and a job working for the family company as in incentive to leave him but it was no use there was just no getting through to her.

I ended up feeling so sorry for Beryl, a good honest woman trying to help her sibling out of an awful relationship and give her a fresh start.

Despite all these failed attempts and the bitter argument all those years ago, she hadn't given up on Rita.

By the end of the conversation we had both agreed to combine our efforts.

I told Beryl to not give up and keep sending letters to Rita, not mentioning I'd been in contact of course. If Rita got wind of me 'interfering' she'd probably never speak to me again. And I promised to do my best at this end, for she would surely show me said letters and I could give my positive input.

Sneaky I know, but necessary under these tense circumstances when much was at stake.

And that's how it began. What had started as a hate filled knee jerk reaction on Rita's part, was about to gather momentum in a positive way.

**

Ok, so for this part of the story I'm going to fast forward a little and condense things because what followed over the next couple of months was nothing short of mental torture as both myself and Beryl entered into a psychological tug of war against Carl's influence.

The next day after I'd spoken to Beryl, Rita was sheepish with me initially, then towards the end of our shift she came to me and apologised for losing her temper, explaining that she was angry with Beryl not myself.

We made up and got on well for the rest of that week, then, after a very satisfying weekend with the pair of us sharing John, another heartfelt letter landed on my friend's doormat.

I'd specifically asked Beryl to write during the week so that Carl would be at work when the correspondence arrived, thus ensuring secrecy.

At first my friend was predictably negative about Beryl's contact, repeating her angry reaction for the first few letters. However, because of Beryl's persistence this anger soon turned to curiosity, especially regarding Rita's niece and nephew whom she hadn't seen since they were kids.

Picking up on this I encouraged Beryl to include photos of her and her children so to stir some positive emotions from Rita.

We made quite a good persuasive team, myself and Beryl.

After several more letters combined with my urging, a dialogue was eventually opened up between the two sisters using my email address, this was done to ensure we had secrecy.

Carl occasionally checked Rita's phone, such was his obsessive control.

The emails quickly turned to phone calls, using my phone during Rita's weekend visits, and this is where things really got going. A change was observed within Rita, not just literally by myself and John but also in her tone and positive attitude while speaking on the phone with Beryl.

But despite this dramatic improvement in our friend, she still could not be led away from Carl's influence.

The situation was in stalemate, perfectly balanced on the scales, Carl's programming versus our combined efforts.

What we needed was something that would tip this balance away from him, a catalyst, and unfortunately for Rita and those of us who care about her, this was to arrive in the form of a new injury, a serious one to her right hand that needed hospital treatment and highlighted just how sadistic Carl is.

This latest round of violence was caused by Carl's accidental discovery of Rita's secret stash of sex toys.

I'm not going to go into detail about what he did to our friend as it's too upsetting, but he hurt so badly that she still has the scarring to this day.

Predictably, Rita wanted to keep what he'd done from her sister, fearing how she would react. But, there was no way I was going to keep quiet about it and I informed Beryl of what had happened, this action earned me another cruel look from my friend and a day of being ignored before Rita once again came to some sense and apologised.

Beryl was very upset and angry about what the pig had done to her sister, secretly confiding in me that she 'knows people' and had already made plans for them to pay Carl a visit if it happened again, give him a taste of his own medicine.

John too was chomping at the bit for some revenge, he'd been just as upset as me when having to witness Rita breaking down in tears while trying to describe to us what Carl had done.

The situation looked dire, but fortunately something good was to come of it.

Now early march, a week after the hand injury, Rita agreed to a meeting with her sister and niece. The arrangements being made during an emotional phone conversation at our house on saturday evening.

A huge breakthrough, Beryl had been trying to arrange it several weeks prior but Rita had been too afraid of Carl finding out. However, since the latest injury our friend had been different, more sure of her own decisions and dare I say, calmer.

At work, during the week before the arranged reunion, Rita was quiet and preoccupied. We all had doubts that she would actually go through with it, but along with these doubts I felt a sense of resignation from her, like she'd given in to our persuasion, a thought that I hardly dare entertain and one that I kept to myself so as not to get the others hopes up.

Despite our fears and a tense week of waiting, the meeting did go ahead at our house one pleasant early spring evening.

Myself and John picked Beryl and her daughter Kathy up from the station and took them back to ours. Their train arriving an hour before we could safely pick Rita up, so we had some time to chat over a cuppa.

Beryl looks a lot like her sister, both women bearing a small resemblance to the actress Brenda blethyn. Despite living in scotland for half her adult life she has retained her yorkshire accent, in stark contrast to her daughter, Rita's niece Kathy, who's scottish accent provided an interesting contrast.