Dirty Susan

"Looking good, Suze," interjected John as he approached. He pecked a kiss against Susan's cheek. "Yep, this is Omar." He winked and gave the blonde his cheeky grin. "Omar, Suze. Suze, Omar."

"Hello, Susan," Omar responded with a languid wave.

"And Ray," John said. "A bit of young stuff just for you, Suze."

"It's all to the good, John," Susan replied, chuckling. She smiled at Ray who had his stare firmly fixed on her chest. Then, with a glance back inside the house, she lowered her voice, saying, "This whole set up is for her." Susan threw a thumb over one shoulder. "She doesn't know there are three of you. She's jittery enough about one of you, never mind three. I told her not to worry. Said we would have a drink and if she wants to she can go." Susan leered at the three men. "I told her I'd sort John out on my own if she left." Her gaze lingered on Omar for a few seconds, a hot stare at his crotch. "But I'm just as happy to sort out the three of you," she added." Then, dropping the hot-eyed look and suggestive tone, went on with, "But we'll play it by ear. Just go with it. Let me run things."

"Okay. Sure. Whatever you say, Suze," replied John. "Don't you worry about us. Me and Omar can think on our feet as it develops, we've had enough practice ducking and diving." He nudged his chin towards Ray. "And Ray will go along with any guidance he's given."

John regarded the young man beside him: "You get it, Ray? Susan's in charge. No blundering in and scaring the fuck out of her mate. We're fucking gentlemen, right? Got it?"

Ray nodded acquiescence. He got it, no problem. He wouldn't do a thing to fuck up their chances. Not if the curvy blonde meant what she said. Even if the other woman walked, she would take on the three of them. Yeah, he wouldn't mind it either way.

The trio followed Susan's sashay into the house.

**

Oh God, there were three of them!

Stephanie's next thought was to wonder why the men were wearing suits. Who wore a suit on a Sunday afternoon in this day and age?

She stood next to the two-seater sofa, obviously nervous while Susan made the introductions.

"The boys work together," Susan informed Stephanie when the niceties were over. "John's got a club, a nightclub near Surrey Quays" She turned to John. "I take it you're working tonight?"

The man grinned and spread his arms. "Always working, girl. No rest for the wicked."

Stephanie felt the heat in her cheeks when John tipped a wink her way. Regardless of her trepidation, Stephanie decided she quite liked him. He had an easy, confident manner. She guessed he was a charmer, a flirt, but he was pretty good-looking, too. He seemed good fun, and not in the least lecherous. The other two, the black man and the young fellow came across as nice guys as well.

She took a deep breath in a conscious effort to relax. The wine and sex with Susan in the open air had given her a buzz.

Susan laughed at John's quip. She raised an eyebrow, replying with, "Indeed ... But we won't talk about wickedness just yet." She surveyed the assemblage with an enquiring eye. "How about a drink?"

There were murmurs of appreciation from the men.

Stephanie nodded. Why not have another drink? She didn't feel in the least bit threatened by the men, sensed nothing sinister from them. Yes, more wine would be good. She wasn't entirely sure about Susan's intent – Did her friend expect her to stay and join in the fun and games? There were three of them for God's sake! If she left, Stephanie wondered, would Susan go ahead and let them all have her?

Just look at her with her boobs practically bursting out everywhere. It looked to Stephanie that Susan wanted a penis. But would she actually take three?

It was an exciting thought, absolutely appalling to contemplate but thrilling nevertheless. No emotions involved, just sex for the sake of it did have a certain dark appeal. But Stephanie couldn't do anything like that. Multiple men? Her? No, Stephanie didn't think she could go that far.

What had happened with Susan was different. She was an old friend and the sex with her was more of a comfort through troubled times. Stephanie felt safe with Susan, secure. Shocking as it had been at the time, Stephanie had enjoyed the moments of deep intimacy with Susan. Being naked with her friend, sharing kisses and loving each other with fingers and tongues was the wickedest thing she'd ever done.

But her mind drifted towards the possibility of making love with John, and her body reacted to the thought. While the residue of the orgasms she'd experienced with Susan lingered, a warm reminder between her legs, Stephanie contemplated taking John to one of the upstairs rooms. Susan could do whatever she wanted with the other two, but she and John could be alone.

Stephanie's clitoris pulsed and her nipples grew tight and she decided to see how far she dare go. She could enjoy some flirting and maybe, if the mood took her, simply enjoy urgent, frantic sex with a good-looking man.

Forget Michael for the time being, she could allow herself a transgression. It wouldn't hurt to take some revenge in the form of another man's cock.

The afternoon didn't have to go too far, Stephanie mused. She didn't have to do anything she didn't want to. An orgy was out of the question for sure. The word no was in her vocabulary, part of her verbal armoury, a weapon she wouldn't be afraid to use.

Stephanie glanced at the men, saw nothing she didn't like and decided to go along with it ... for the time being. A couple of drinks and a laugh would be okay, a kiss and a cuddle with John to her liking. If it got too strange she would get a cab home.

"So, John," Stephanie heard herself say, amazed at how calm she sounded, "a nightclub? How exciting..."

With the ice broken, and with Stephanie engaged in what looked to be easy conversation with John, Susan went to the kitchen. She poured wine for herself and Stephanie, pulled bottles of beer from the fridge for the men, and carried the lot through to the reception room on a tray.

"Excuse me a second," Susan said when everyone was seated, drinks close by or in hand. "But I won't be long."

She moved along the long hallway towards the rear of the house and went out onto the patio. Pausing to light a cigarette, Susan then used her mobile to make a call. It was a brief, one-way conversation, and when she hung up Susan estimated she had half-an-hour to forty minutes to get things warmed up inside.

Then the party could really get started.

Seven

"Now," Susan said when she returned to the soiree. "Where's my drink?" She lifted the wine glass. "Cheers." She looked around and was pleased to note that everyone seemed cool and relaxed.

Omar was sitting in one of the deep armchairs. He looked very comfortable, and well he should the price Susan had paid for the furniture.

John rose and offered his chair to Susan. She accepted with a smirk, knowing John wanted her close to him.

"John was just telling me about his club," Stephanie informed her friend as Susan sat down, John perching on the chair arm. "It sounds like they have an interesting time of it." She smiled at Ray, who was next to her on the two-seater.

She didn't see Susan's wink to John, nor was she aware of the surreptitious movement when the man popped a small blue pill into his mouth and washed it down with a swig of his beer, her attention taken by Omar as he spoke.

"Yeah, Steph, never a dull moment down at the club."

"You could come over sometime," Ray chipped in. "Both of you." He glanced away from Stephanie, his eyes going straight to Susan's cleavage.

Ray, along with the other two men, had clocked the button Susan had loosened before her return. He was struggling with the discomfort of an erection swelling inside his suit trousers. The blonde was just as John had described her: lovely and rounded ... And her tits! Jesus but did Ray want to see those jugs swinging free. Stephanie wasn't bad, either. Fit as fuck, as John had promised.

"You'd have a great night. We'd take care of you," he finished.

Stephanie blinked when she heard the husky timbre of Ray's voice. There was something in the quality of his tone that stirred her on a physical level. Her chest suddenly felt tight and she found it difficult to breathe. He was so close to her. His leg was tight against hers.

It occurred to her that it was the same intense feeling she'd experienced when Susan had seduced her, and Stephanie was quickly very aware that she felt the same stirring between her legs, mercurial lust as her pussy flooded. Just how much wine had she drunk? When she examined he glass, Stephanie was shocked to find it empty.

Muddled with drink and her body's unexpected response to Ray's youthful proximity – he looked bloody good in a suit, filled it well – as well as the desire evident in the young man's voice, Stephanie lurched to her feet.

She waved her glass in the air. "I'm just going to get another drink. Anyone else?"

When Stephanie left the room, Susan, with a wary eye towards the door, said, "Give it a little while longer. I'll make a move." She threw a heavy-lidded look towards Omar. "I hope you're not shy," she said directly, her meaning obvious.

Next to Susan, John laughed. "Pop the little blue pill, mate." He smirked down at the blonde but continued to direct his comments to Omar. "You'll need it. When she gets going..." He then turned to Ray, asking, "What about you?"

Ray shook his head and lifted his buttocks from the chair. He tugged at the front of his suit trousers and grimaced.

"Fuck off. I'm twenty years old. What do I need Viagra for? I've already got a hard-on."

"Save some of that hard cock for me," Susan growled. She leaned forward and jiggled her torso. Then, blowing a kiss at Ray, pressed the palms of both hands to the outer flanks of her breasts.

Ray's cheeks ballooned as he slowly shook his head, eyes lasering over Susan's curves, the deep crease of her cleavage emphasised because of the blonde's hands forcing her tits together.

"Not a problem," he said with confidence well beyond his years. "With a lady like you, I could go all night ... Without any fucking pill to help me keep it up."

Susan grinned happily. "I'll hold you to that, Ray." She slid a look towards the door, expecting Stephanie to walk in at any moment. "If we don't get together tonight," she shrugged, "then some other time for sure."

Susan glanced at the door again and, speaking quickly, enlightened the men as to the why she'd absented herself a few minutes earlier.

"I've made a call to her husband. If he turns up, and I hope he does, I want you to persuade him to stay. If Steph goes for it, I want that wanker to watch while one of you gives her the good news.

"Like I said, I'll make a move soon."

Another appreciative look at Omar, a glance at his crotch.

"Remember, just play along with it, whatever happens, just go along with me." Susan chuckled and rolled her eyes. "At the very least, if it all goes wrong..." She paused and smirked and looked at each man in turn. "...I'll have three lovely men to play with. It won't be a complete loss."

There were chuckles and winks and suggestive murmurs. Omar swallowed his Viagra.

Stephanie returned with the tray full of drinks and played the host.

She settled next to Ray once more and the conversation picked up again. John and Omar kept the ladies amused by revealing condensed life histories – the shadier elements omitted – for a further fifteen minutes.

Then, with a casualness that made Stephanie splutter, Susan asked, "So, Omar ... I bet you get asked all the time ... But are you proportioned in the way I'm led to believe?"

**

They both stood in the centre of the room, Susan next to Omar, her body pressed alongside his, the man's penis dangling from the gaping front of his suit trousers.

The size of it shocked Stephanie. The bloody thing was huge.

"Oh wow!" She heard Susan cry. "It's bigger than I thought."

Stephanie swallowed, unable to tear her gaze from the appendage.

Then Susan's fist closed around it, her fingers not meeting around its circumference.

"Shit," the blonde groaned. "Jesus, Steph..." Susan stared at her friend, dragging Stephanie's attention from the penis to her face.

Omar's penis surprised even Susan. It wasn't so much the length of Omar's cock, although it was one of the longest she'd ever seen, nor even the girth, which, again was a match for any cock she had laid eyes upon before. What impressed her most was the mass of that chocolate-coloured thing. It just hung there, arcing heavily from the unzipped flies, so threatening, the bulging head of it a deep and dark purple.

"What?" Stephanie mumbled, appalled yet aroused beyond measure, turned-on by the sight of that cock and the absolute yearning evident in Susan's stare, in equal measure.

"Have you seen this fucking thing?" Susan muttered.

Stephanie nodded, gulping again as her vulva, suffused with liquid warmth, swelled with desire. Susan's husky moan, her wide eyes – the heat and yearning in that look! The terrible size of the black cock in her grip...

And Susan can't even get her fingers around it!

"Susan..." Stephanie mumbled as the blonde hiked her skirt around her hips.

There was a mutter from Ray when Susan's lack of underwear became apparent to all who watched the scene unfold.

"Oh God, Suze..." Stephanie breathed. She wanted to do it then. At that moment she didn't care about the future, her husband, anything. She would take on those three men and be fucking glad of it.

Susan was squatting by then, her hand cranking at Omar's cock.

"Watch me suck him, Steph. Watch me suck this big fucker."

"Shit," muttered Ray when, with the knob-end stretching her lips, Susan unfastened the remaining buttons and lifted her breasts, one after the other, from her bra.

Ray's hand went to Stephanie's leg, his fingers on her thigh.

Stephanie glanced down at Ray's hand on her thigh. She squirmed and let out a low moan. She wanted the young man to touch her between her legs; she wanted him to lick her into a coma; she wanted it all, but at that moment, distracted, she was powerless to do anything other than gaze enraptured at the fascinating sight of Susan working at Omar's penis.

Then the doorbell rang, long and insistent before ceasing abruptly and someone began to hammer at the door.

Eight

Susan looked at John, her fist cranking Omar's cock. She raised an eyebrow and John, who had been looking on with a smirk on his face, took his cue and heaved himself out of his chair.

A few moments passed. There were voices at the door, muffled and indistinct, and yet to Stephanie's surprise Susan just kept on working her fist up and down the length of Omar's impressive penis.

Then she blinked with stunned disbelief when she saw Michael enter the room, John close behind.

What was he doing there? What possible reason could there be for her husband's presence?

**

When he walked into that room, Michael was reminded of the film Reservoir Dogs: Men in suits?

Then his eyes fell upon Susan, her big breasts swaying in time with the movement of her arm as she fisted the enormous bulk of the black man's cock.

Fucking hell ... Look at her ... The dirty fucking cow...

He glanced around and noticed Ray's hand on Stephanie's leg.

"What the fuck--?" he blurted.

What was Stephanie doing with that kid's hand on her leg? What was she doing on the periphery of what had all the makings of an orgy?

He looked away from his wife, staring once more at Susan as she smirked back at him.

Michael couldn't dag his eyes away from the blonde and her tits as he spoke to his wife.

"Steph, what the hell are you doing here with this lot?"

"Watching me suck cock," interjected Susan before Stephanie could respond. "You should sit down, Michael. You're just in time." A dark chuckle rumbled out of her. "Maybe you should down and watch Omar have a go at your wife?" Susan waggled the cock and slapped the underside of its head against her tongue. "You want to see her fucking this thing, Michael?"

Michael gulped, eyes bulging. His mouth worked open and closed as he struggled to make sense of the feelings inside him. He was aroused by Susan's dishabille, couldn't take his eyes off her big jugs and tense thighs as she squatted there with that ... thing in her hand. Part of him wanted to see Susan's cunt accommodating the length and girth of it; he ached to do it to her, too. He wanted to hear her moan, wanted to watch her face as she came, her cunt clenching around his cock.

But the thought of watching Stephanie, his wife, being fucked by the black cock was unthinkable. The idea of her fucking anyone other than him was appalling. Michael was unable to countenance such an act. It was okay for him to ride the arse off Amy, what man wouldn't if given the opportunity to fuck a young woman like her? But there was no way anyone was getting some of Stephanie. Not a chance. He might have grown bored with her, had his head turned by Amy, but he was a man, and that's what men did. Stephanie was his wife and she'd do as he said. It was time for her to get the fuck out of that house, away from Susan. Immediately.

"You," Michael snarled, pointing at Ray. "Get your hand off my wife's leg." He stepped towards the pair on the sofa, Stephanie's jaw still slack with shock at his unexpected presence. "You're coming with me, Steph," he growled. "Now. You're getting out of this right now."

A hand gripped Michael's bicep as he took another pace.

With his voice low and threatening, John said, "You don't want to give Ray any orders, mate. He's only a young bloke, but he'll tear you apart. You threaten him and you'll end up looking like a right cunt in front of your missis."

Characters from another film flashed into Michael's mind when he heard John speak. This time he was reminded of Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. Michael gaped at the man who held him. Who did this joker think he was, Vinnie Jones?"

"But..." Michael began until the squeeze on his arm caused him to wince and gasp.

"Trust me. You'll end up blowing snot bubbles and snivelling if Ray decides to take offence."

"She's my wife," Michael whined, all parody gangsters forgotten. "She can't do this. She has to come with me."

John pulled a face. "I hear you weren't too bothered about her since you got yourself a bird. A younger model by all accounts." He shrugged and nodded towards Stephanie who was sitting stock still, Ray's hand still on her thigh. "You're a mug, mate. Look at her, your wife, she's bloody gorgeous ... A nice lady, too; we've been talking, and I reckon she deserves better than a slimy little wanker like you."

Michael was stunned; shocked to his core that Stephanie would allow herself to get into such a sordid situation. And who was this man to make any judgement?

Despite the iron grip that banded his arm, regardless of the flat, implacable stare, blue ice in the man's face, Michael's innate arrogance came to the fore and he bridled.

"Let me go," he grunted, attempting to break free of the band of iron gripping his arm. He looked at Stephanie, eyes pleading. "Steph, come on. Let's go." Then, when Stephanie showed no inclination to obey, he tried to placate her with: "I'll get rid of Amy, it's over ... She was just a fling. She's not you, Steph. You're my wife..."

It was then, unnoticed up to that point, as she stood in the doorway, Amy exclaimed, "What! Michael ... What are you saying?"

Nine

In the ensuing cacophony, a babble of voices, some overriding others, with John's attention diverted to Amy, Michael slipped his arm free.

"I thought I told you to stay in the car," he snapped at the girl.