Executive's Slut Ch. 08

CHAPTER 8: DP VARIANT

Home Sweet Home. The loving, safe place. Tensions can evaporate. The body can re-energize. A place to be yourself without fear. A place where airs, images, and pretending can be left behind.

Right. It wasn't in my home, either. Growing up certainly wasn't. There were always the expectations for school and performance in whatever other activities there were. Marriage... it seemed pretty good but... what did I know. A lack of conflict means everything is good? What we found was neither of us was getting what we wanted, much less needed.

Here, though... here is different. These two have it figured out. How did they do that? The second marriage? Learning from mistakes of the first? I know they aren't opposites. They are similar in many ways. They are both strong people, though Mr. is far more aggressive, especially in business. Mrs. is more social, easily flittering around and through groups large and small. Complimentary. Not opposite.

And then me. I fit between them so perfectly. It is as if I were molded from a lump of clay shaped by their mutual hands in a shared and coordinated image of desire and need. They each guide me and handle me effortlessly, sharing what I can give, instructing and guiding toward what either conjures for more. I am content. Content... it seems so... mellow of a word, expression of feeling. The feeling is more than merely happy, relaxed, or satisfied. I am those things. I am at ease, unthreatened, secure, safe, and protected. But there is always a fire inside me ready to burst into consuming energy and titillation. How is it that I can feel so at peace, so secure, so at ease in this new life and at the same time, the next moment in that life be physically teased, probed, fondled, or be given a cock to suck or pussy to eat or be ravaged by cock or toys for the pleasure of others? The anticipation, the potential of it happening, is that fire inside. The mere touch or word or, sometimes, a look and that fire erupts in flames to consume not only me but the other who lit it. It is an odd state to be in... at peace but ready to explode.

My name is Karen Samson. I am a mature woman. I was married. I am divorced. I have other names: slut, cunt, bitch, whore. I have responded to all of them in situations. Here, though, with them, I am Karen or slut. I am submissive to both of them. My singular desire is to please and serve these two. I follow their instructions and directions to the letter. I satisfy their wishes and desires to my ability. They promised me I would always be learning and experiencing. I am thrilled with each new experience to satisfy them in a new way. I am a slut. Their slut. Mutually and openly. I am rarely fully dressed in the confines of their home and private yard. They desire to have access to my body, to my holes. Their desire fuels my desire. Much of my pleasure comes from pleasing them individually, combined, or including others. Who or how is irrelevant. Submissive slut. It is what I am... what I do. It has taken some training, some experience, some time. Now, it is who, what I am. I may be a maid, servant, cook, confidant to them. Those roles provide pleasure in serving. The true vessel holding the flame, though, is being a toy with three holes ready to be used at any time, in any way, wherever either or both desires. I am a slut.

The thoughts of what and who I am fills my mind in quiet times. Many times of quiet, I will wear special, noise-canceling headphones that provide a calming, soothing, peace of mind and soul through the music and sounds they generate. They were a gift of Trinity Enterprises to relieve the stress of my former husband leaving for an overseas assignment. The headphones were a miracle. With them, I was able to not only cope but to thrive. When I was served with the divorce, that peace helped me get through it and allowed me to see myself in new ways I might never have imagined, new ways that must have been buried deep inside me. I continue to use them now when cleaning, cooking, and times of quiet. It no longer is to relieve stress or tension. It might be partly habit but also it continues to take me to a special place in my mind where I am invigorated, reinforced, and encouraged deeply in my soul.

Right now, I am perfectly content and at peace. My couple is reclined against the headboard of their massive bed, each with a glass of wine. Shortly before, we had all three of us orgasmed together. Sometimes it is almost a game to see if I can manage climaxes to erupt at the same time. Tonight, it worked. I had used a vibrating dildo and my mouth and fingers on Mrs. Baldwin while he fucked me. Sometimes I am not specifically pleasured at all but merely used to pleasure the two of them as they fuck each other. In such cases, I masturbate later. There is no frustration on my part. My intention is their pleasure. My masturbation relieves physical tension so I can focus on them. I masturbate a lot. I use a collection of dildos, vibrators, eggs, plugs, and clips... to supplement my fingers.

This night we all orgasmed. They are relaxing. I am doing what I enjoy doing when they are relaxing like this. I am sprawled out with them but without a drink. My mouth is occupied with his cock. I have long since cleaned it of our juices and now sucking and licking casually. It is almost comforting in its own way. A sort of pacifier. It has softened but I have not allowed it to fully soften. As I contentedly suck, my hand is spread over him to her. She has one leg draped over his, her wet pussy open to my fingers as I play over the lips, clit, and her hole. There is no urgency or overt stimulation in my action. I am merely keeping them 'warmed up', their sexual engine idling smoothly should they desire to begin, again.

Sometimes they are talking about what just happened, or their days, or something at the company, or an upcoming social thing, or the house. I am never completely out of it, though. Their fingers lightly caressing me keeps me a part of it... my mouth and fingers, too. Tonight, she is probing more into what happened with the Vice Presidents.

Her voice is incredulous, "You double-penetrated her vagina? James... what got you thinking... Karen, dear, did it hurt terribly?"

I pulled my lips from the head of his cock, raised my head to look at them, "It did, ma'am. At first. Do you remember how big that man was and how big his dildo is? Remember how it stretched you the first time?" She nodded and I could see in her expression how the memory ignited a response inside her. I smiled at the reaction. She wasn't that much different than me... she's just strong and in control. "At first it felt like I might tear. I was stretched so much. Then, I adjusted. It was like being fucked by a pole." She shook her head in wonder. I returned my mouth to his cock and slipped two fingers into her pussy. She gasped at the suddenness of the penetration.

She playfully slapped my hand but didn't stop it. "You wicked slut. Are you trying to make me cum, again?" I giggled around the cock.

It was quiet for a moment. My sucking increased and my fingers moved more intentionally. The memory of that night aroused me, not that it takes much. I feel his cock swell in my mouth and know he is thinking something, either reliving the moment or something else. She opens her legs a little more and I respond by driving my two fingers deeper and my thumb on her clit. Soon, both are breathing heavier and soft sighs and moans cascade down over me.

Then, his cock springs to full erection in my mouth and I know something is coming. He is thinking something.

"Since that night... the double-vag... I've been having this thought... something different, new, outrageous. The double penetration has been amazing and I know Karen has felt the same way."

She responds to her husband, her hand also moving to caress my head sucking her husband. "Thinking something outrageous? Dear, neither of us would be surprised." I giggle around the cock, again. "What is it you've been imagining but not saying?"

"I want you to give me a hand-job."

She moved to her side, probably to properly look at him in disbelief. She kept her one leg raised though so I still had access to her pussy. "A hand-job? We have Karen who is willing and eager to do our bidding, to do anything we desire, and you want me to give you a hand-job?"

He laughed. "Okay, that sounds stupid left like that. You're right about Karen. My thought is more involved, though." Okay, a hand-job that is more involved? He stroked my cheek as I softly suckled on his cock. "You've never been fisted have you, Karen?" I paused. Fisted? What does fisting have to do with Mrs. giving him a hand-job?

With my mouth full, she beat me to the question. "James, you're not making sense. First, you talk about me giving you a hand-job, then say it is more than that, then ask her if she's been fisted when we all know she hasn't." She took a breath and I waited, too. "What are you... Wait a minute." I felt her shift more, her pussy pulling away from my fingers in the process. "Wait a minute. You... you are talking about another form of double-penetration? Seriously?" Another form of double-penetration? What does any form of that have to do with giving a hand-job? What am I missing? My mouth has stopped, stopped sucking, and stopped moving. What is he not saying? Has she figured it out?

His voice is more excited now. She's guessed and he's excited. "I am serious. At least, serious enough to consider it. Can you imagine what that might feel like? Not only for me but for you, too?"

She gasps out her response. She is excited. Why am I not getting this? She blurts it out. "My God, James! You'd be in her ass..." He must have nodded. "And my hand would be in her pussy." What? Her hand in my pussy? His cock in my ass? "I could give you a hand-job from inside her pussy?"

"Think about it... it's just a thin membrane of separation. Wouldn't that be wild?"

My mouth came off his cock and I rolled to look up at him and her. "What? Are you two serious?"

She looked down with an amazing smile. "Karen, it would be... wow, that might be so wild."

"What? Your hand in my pussy jacking him off in my ass?"

His excitement was contagious and I felt myself in trouble. "I think it could work. It's so erotic."

"So obscene is what it is," I gasp.

He touched my chin and looked into my eyes. "Karen, you've never said, no. I don't think you've ever considered saying no to us. You aren't really questioning it, are you?" Both of their smiles said it all. They both knew there was never a question of doing it.

I sighed. "Fuck. God, you two... You know I won't refuse you."

Their smiles increased knowingly.

Mr. Baldwin shifted slightly down on the bed until he was flat. He began into his director mode, reminding me of the night with the Vice Presidents. His cock was plenty hard and he held it straight up in the air, the implication obvious to us all. But Mrs. Baldwin stopped me from mounting him. She stretched across the bed to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and removed the handy tube of lubrication. Since my three days with that man, anal and double-penetration had become a regular in our play. Well, double-penetration for me using a variety of dildos to joining Mr. Baldwin.

She squeezed some onto my fingers and some onto hers. I went right to work covering his cock with the gel as she moved behind me and poked it into my asshole. I giggle with a playful squeal at the cool gel being pressed into my tight hole.

Mr. Baldwin lay on his back wiggling his cock back and forth. I climbed over him with my back to him at his direction. I positioned myself over him, aligned his cock with my tight bud, and lowered myself slightly until I felt the pressure at the opening. I gulped in air and pressed down harder. After some resistance, his cock sunk past my tight sphincter. I gasped. No matter how many times I have done this, the initial penetration is still tight, still can take my breath away. There is far less time needed to get past that feeling of stretching sting compared to the early times. Now, I sink quickly down on his length, feeling his cock filling me as it passes deeper, a constant filling, opening, stretching until I feel my butt on his hips. I let out a long gasp of air and settle myself on him, giving my body a moment. Then, quickly, I begin rising and lowering on him. I pull up along his full length, his cock head only inside, then press back down on his full length. Over and over. His cock was hard when we started but it seems to have become even harder now. I wonder... just from the fucking? Or, equal part anticipation? Anticipation of the devious idea we're about to act out?

Mrs. Baldwin crawls on her knees between our legs. Her hands come out and capture my bouncing breasts. She squeezes them hard as she leans in to kiss me causing me to slow my fucking just a bit. When she breaks the kiss, she reaches for the tube, again. She squeezes a large amount into her right hand and begins smoothing it over her entire hand and wrist. Her wrist... God... she's really going to do this... put her whole hand inside my pussy!

I grab her right hand, "Ma'am, please take your ring off..." She giggles embarrassed that she hadn't noticed it. She was wearing an elaborate jeweled ring on her right hand. I lean forward and kiss her, to put that moment behind us, partly to encourage her forward. "I don't know if I am ready or not... so just do it."

She used her left hand to push me back against her husband, his cock firmly and deeply embedded in my ass. With me lying against him, his cock slides inside me, pulling the head from the deepest penetration merely because of the position of our bodies. She had me pull my knees up and splayed out to the sides. Mr. Baldwin was propped up by a pillow and headboard so I was, too. I gazed down between my legs obscenely spread before her. I felt Mr. Baldwin's heavy breath on my shoulder and knew he was watching, too. Mrs. Baldwin's lubricated hand played over my pussy, spreading my lips, and pressing on my clit. My eyes watched each movement, the cock in my ass now overshadowed by what I was anticipating. How weird is that? She slipped two fingers inside, sawing them in and out, then added a third, plunging them into my drooling hole. She pulled the three fingers back but not out and added the fourth. At first, the four fingers were bunched together as she plunged them in but she soon had them on top of each other in a line, sawing in and out, twisting her arm to press in sideways, too. My breathing was already ragged. I could feel Mr. Baldwin's cock twitch inside my ass and I wondered if she had impacted it, already.

I leaned my head back for a moment, gasping and panting, feeling her fingers open inside, wiggling, sliding along the inside walls of my pussy. Then... her fingers were out. I pulled my head up and looked down between my legs. She was folding her fingers together, trying different shapes. She seemed to settle on forming a cone with her four fingers, her thumb tucked inside. Her fingers came to my pussy, the tips easily going in stretching me wider as she pressed her formed fingers past the second knuckles. She pressed harder, twisting her wrist back and forth as more and more entered. The last knuckles were about to disappear, which would be about the widest part.

She looked at me. She pushed but there was a lot of resistance. I gave her a weak smile and nodded. God help me but I wanted her to. "Do it. Force it in! Get your hand in my pussy. Fist me, ma'am. Do it and get your husband off!" God, what was I say? What were we doing? This was so obscene, so filthy... fuck, I was so hot and turned on. Masturbate him from inside my pussy? How crazily obscene can it be? So crazy, so obscene I wanted to do it.

She pulled back an inch, tightened her hand into the cone shape, and pushed. I grunted as my pussy stretched. She turned her hand back and forth as she pressed. I could see it move, covering that last of the knuckles. I was nodding and grunting around the gasping and panting. Then...

"Oh... fuck... oh, yes..."

The knuckles were in, most of her hand was inside. She paused, knowing to give me a moment to adjust. But her fingers wiggled inside me. She was lightly stroking the walls. I heard a gasp behind me and I could feel it, too. She was lightly stroking his cock with her fingertips. Another push and her entire hand was inside to her wrist. My eyes and mouth were agape. I dropped my head back and glanced off Mr. Baldwin's cheekbone. He reacted but his hands continued fondling me, one hand on a breast and the other down at my pussy. His hand stroked around his wife's hand... or, really, her wrist because her hand had disappeared.

She pushed more of her forearm into me. She was curious, apparently. Her fingers were exploring blindly. I flinched as her fingernail glanced over my cervix. I gasped as her finger found it, again. She traced around it, finding the tight opening. I raised my head to look at her. She was intent on me, too.

"I wonder if I can push in..." My eyes grew wide, again. It's not enough her hand is inside me while her husband's cock is filling my ass? She wants to probe my cervix, too? Her fingers shifted over the opening inside me, finger after finger until it was probably the little finger. The tip rubbed over the opening, found its spot, and pressed. It opened as she pushed and more of her hand and lower arm disappeared into me. I felt the cervix open and my womb invaded. At that moment, a memory flashed: young, unable to get pregnant, we sought answers from a doctor... I was unable. Had that nagged at Gerald all this time until he met the woman in India? Was that part of his decision to stay there? Was he still wanting a family?

I groaned as the finger went deeper and the memory, the question was gone. My pussy was clenching around the invader. Mrs. Baldwin looked down at her arm and up at me. Mr. Baldwin moaned from behind me. I was orgasming around her hand, my pussy tightening, quaking, which sent spasms of muscle reaction into my anal passage and around his cock. Fingers and hands stroked and teased me on the outside, too. I rode the orgasm. My body shivering, my head hanging back on his shoulder, my eyes tight and mouth open, gasping for air.

As my body settled, she returned to the purpose at hand... so to speak. Repositioning her hand, her fingers stroked back and forth downward. I felt not only him strain up against me but also her pressing my pussy wall over the throbbing cock in my anal passage. His hips raised in response and we both groaned. Her hand moving inside me stimulated me further and I felt another orgasm rising through my body. His straining told me he was reacting to it, too.

"Oh, God... yeah... right there... fuck, honey... yeah..." He was encouraging his wife. This time I had nothing to do with bringing him to climax. His wife was indeed giving him the obscene hand-job he imagined. I crashed into another orgasm as her hand and fingers increased in speed over his cock, massaging the head through the thin membrane.

He strained up, raising both of our bodies off the bed slightly. I felt his cock straining hard, jerking, pulsing. My muscles spasmed in orgasm, my pussy holding tight to her wrist and hand, my anal clasping to his cock. Then... I felt his cock spew cum into me, filling, coating my ass seemingly into my bowels as he strained and thrust an inch deeper.

She didn't remove her hand for many minutes. She lightly stroked back and forth, my body quivering in after-shocks, his cock remaining very hard for longer than normal.

God, these two... just a quiet evening at home, they said...