Once again, the words had seemed to come from nowhere. But then, to her surprise, there she was, in the bridal dressing room with Roger knocking at the door.
"Well, before we got married, I fell in love with Roger and we fucked!" White pushed into her as the word "fucked" left her lips, turning it into a half-word half-moan.
"Tell us, Jean, tell us how you fucked your husband's best man," prompted White. Jean struggled to speak as White slowly moved in and out of her. The memory took hold of her again, just as the previous one, and the words seemed to pour forth.
The rehearsal had just finished and she was stepping out of her dress when Roger walked through the door. She had told him to meet her here. When he saw her, he pounced, saying how he couldn't wait any longer. They fell to the floor, both lips and hips locked. Wasting no time, Roger pulled at the lace on the front of her corset frantically until it was loose enough to force open. It was the same corset Tom had made her wear for their entire honeymoon, the same one she wore whenever she wanted Tom's attention. It came open and Roger pulled her panties away, thrusting into her. They both rutted and squealed as if they were in a barnyard. Finally, Roger pulled out, his hips bucking wildly. He shot indiscriminately – Jean, the floor, the corset, the train of the wedding dress. At least white blended with white.
A few days later, Jean sat in the same room in full regalia. Roger burst in once again. The two of them knew there were only a few minutes left so he unzipped and she hiked her dress up. The white fabric crumpled against them and formed a ring around her stomach. They screwed as fast as they could and it was over soon enough. Roger pulled out and unleashed a stream of cum onto Jean's thighs and the inside of her wedding dress. Roger smiled, no doubt like a waiter who had just spit in his customer's food. "So close," she said. He gave her a few quick rubs until she started shaking. She let out a loud yowl as she came on Roger's hand. The sound was swiftly overpowered by the organ bellowing first few notes of the Wedding March.
Her chest heaved and her breath went ragged, making her next words difficult to spit out. "Oh, what's wrong...with me today? What's happening? I swear I couldn't even remember doing these things until now."
Telling the story had made Jean even more aroused. She was laying on her back, eyes closed but mouth gaping. Tom merely grunted in exasperation. Jean and Roger. The people closest to him playing Judas together.
"What's going on here, White?!" barked Tom.
"What's going on is that your wife is finally telling you what a naughty little girl she's been. Now don't be so modest, Jean. Tell us what else you've done," said White
"I don't know what you – oh!" Jean screamed and panted in pleasure. "I'm gonna cum. Stop, don't do it!"
"Do what, Jean?"
"Don't make me cum. You're doing something strange, I know it. Something's happening to me!"
"Yes, Jean, you're experiencing real pleasure."
"No, it's – Oh, I do need it! I'm cumming!"
"That's it, Jean, now tell us." She was still squirming and yelping in orgasm as she spoke.
"Oh! The mailman, the old guy – oh – across the street...."
Her list just went on and on. All those men must have violated every crevice of her body, just like White, corrupting her. Since they had gone steady in high school, he thought only his hands had touched her. No, maybe his dick throbbed in her mouth as so many others had. Maybe her hands had rubbed and stroked other men as much as they had him. After the initial shock wore off, two and two collided in Tom's head. He reached for the gun behind the nightstand and pointed it at White.
"Get your dick out of my wife, you piece of shit!" White jumped back in surprise while Jean screamed and fell off the bed. Tom's questions came down in a torrent. "Don't move! Now, what the fuck is going on here? What did you do to my wife? Did you drug her? How do you know these things? Have you been spying on us?"
"You won't believe me if I tell you, Mr. Slater. Now lower your weapon," White replied.
"I don't give a shit! What the fuck is going on here?!"
"Okay, Mr. Slater, but don't ask for another explanation. You see, when I know a woman, I know a woman. That is, the more I've pleasured her, the more her mind is open to me, the more I can do with it. So what's happened here is that—" White paused for a second and as he did, there was a thud as something struck the back of Tom's head.
Tom awoke to find himself tied to the bed. Jean was facing him with White taking her from behind again. Her hand reached out and stroked Tom's member as he cursed and struggled and continued to yell "What the fuck is going on?"
"I'm sorry, Tom. Mr. White said he wanted his full hour or no money, so we couldn't let you stop this. We were scared, too, with you waving that gun around." She paused to give a few licks and sucks to his hardening member. "And, well, I was having fun."
That aching feeling returned to Tom's crotch as Jean continued. "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't realize I was just a little trashy slut. I don't deserve you, I've been cheating on you since we started going out, and I can't believe it either. I guess I just buried those memories somehow, for our sake."
The sincerity of Jean's apology was weakened by the fact that her words were punctuated by moans and the sound of White's hips slapping against her ass.
"No, this can't be true!"
"But it is. Your wife is nothing but a fucking slut, desperate for cock!" White yelled as he slapped her ass and drove into her pussy over and over.
"Don't talk to my wife like that! And you, Jean, you're lying. You're drugged up!" Tom hollered.
"No, Tom, it's all true, I fucked every guy I could when you weren't looking. I just can't help myself." Her moaning continued, sounding like she was having the best sex of her life. She wrapped her lips around Tom's dick again. Her face seemed alien for the first time, caked in White's semen and full of lust. White seemed alien as well, looking like some horny football player, Roger, the old man across the street, all these things at once.
A pang of need shot through his balls. He needed release like never before, but getting it from this unfamiliar Jean, this prostitute of a wife would be humiliating, especially with White inside of her.
Jean now alternated between sucking him and describing every incident of infidelity in painful detail. The stories were so intricate – how could she be lying? Why would she be lying?
Lick, slurp – "...and then he exploded inside me..." lick – "and he pulled out and it was still shooting all over me...."
Visualizing her stories while she blew him was arousing him in spite of his predicament. He was close to releasing now, wanting to so desperately but knowing he would be ashamed when he did. Jean licked up and down his shaft and squeezed his now tender scrotum. Looking at her face again, he changed his mind. Yes, he thought, if she wants to act like this, I want to shoot all over the little whore. He imagined her face soaked in his cum, letting it drip down her face and mix with White's. That would be an appropriate look for her.
The moment Tom's cock went rigid in preparation to shoot, White said, "Let's try another position." He lifted her off the bed and Tom's cock popped out of her mouth, leaving it twitching and leaking in frustration. "Sorry there, Tommy-boy, but the two of us need some alone time."
White lifted her off the ground and rammed her back against the wall. The shelves rattled as they slammed into the wall repeatedly. Jean wailed breathlessly, "Oh god, Mr. White, it feels so good to be fucked by someone who knows what he's doing. I want you to shoot your load in me – I'm gonna cum soon..." Smash, smash, smash, "Oh, I'm cumming!"
They both let out wanton yowls as the shelves rattled harder. White's cum dripped from Jean's pussy back onto his shaft with each thrust. One of them must have put the gun on the shelf when they knocked out Tom, and with one final pound, it fell from the shelf and discharged.
"Ooh, hope no one's asleep," said White. Jean's legs unwrapped from around White's torso and she fell to the floor.
"You fucking bastard! And you goddamned whore!" Tom screamed, face completely red. "You've fucked with me long enough! Untie me!"
"Can't risk that, Mr. Slater," said White. Jean nodded in agreement.
"You fucking slut!" Tom managed to get his finger to his mouth and pulled his wedding band off with his lips and spat it at Jean.
"All right, then, I never wanna see you again either, Tom! I'm finished playing the good girl for you. You can't accept the fact that my sexual appetite is too big for you, so we can't be together."
"Sorry, honey, Mr. White has a nice place, a car that runs, and he's an animal in bed. He has everything I need. He can take care of me, but you can't."
"Call me Jim, baby," White chimed in.
Tom burned from a combination of rage and shame. He was bewildered that she acted more dignified than him in spite of the fact that she was covered in semen, some of it dried to her skin and some now running down her leg. The two started dressing while he squirmed on the bed, grunting "Lemme go!"
"I can't stand these clothes anymore. How could I wear these? So fucking modest! Help me with this, Jim." She pulled at the midriff of her flared blouse and then at the side of her skirt. White came to her aid, gripping the cloth of her blouse. The midriff tore off, leaving just the cloth above the cinch and baring her entire stomach. White then tore slits all the way up her skirt so that it showed off every inch of her legs as she walked.
"Better, honey?" White asked, wrapping his arm around her waist. With her torn up clothes and pussy still dripping semen, she looked as if she had just come from some low-budget casting couch.
"Yeah, so much, babe," Jean replied.
"Hey, Tom, one last thing. My lady is a little messy. You should help clean her up," said White.
Jean walked over to Tom. "Good idea." She picked up the discarded towel and wiped off her face, then said, "Now it's your turn."
"Don't do this to me, Jean!" Tom yelled as she positioned herself over his erect member. She ignored him and lowered herself onto it. His head slipped between her lips, forcing the leftovers of her fuck with White onto him. There was a squish as she pushed further and White's cum surrounded his cock. She gripped the base and used it to scrape his shaft against the walls of her vagina. Tom abhorred everyone in the room – White and Jean for using him like this and himself for remaining physically aroused enough so that Jean could do what she was doing. It was even worse now. He couldn't deny the fact that being inside Jean was giving him pleasure, even she had been contaminated by White's juices.
"There we go, all clean," Jean said as she pulled off of him. His dick was now covered in White's cum, little globules running down it. Yet it still yearned to be inside Jean, to feel her warmth, to release. How could it think of something at a time like this, how could it still be stiff? Jean interrupted Tom's thoughts by placing her leg next to his face and saying, "I hope you enjoyed your last time inside me, but there's still this that needs to be cleaned off."
"Fuck off!" snarled Tom as Jean stuck her thigh in his face.
White tsk-tsked as he picked up the gun from the floor. Tom froze and acquiesced, hesitantly opening his mouth. His tongue touched the inside of Jean's leg above her knee, where the streak of cum had dripped down to. The gob at the end of the streak hit his tongue and delivered a powerfully salty taste. Jean pulled her skirt up as he licked her thigh, lapping more of White's cream into his mouth. Tom burned inside, furious but too ashamed to speak. Finally, he reached the spatter of fluid on Jean's pussy lips and licked it off.
"Thanks so much," she dropped the hem of her skirt and walked to the doorway, where White stood waiting. He kissed her from the forehead down to the tip of her nose and she reciprocated. "Goodbye, Tom."
They both left the room as the sound of sirens filled the air.