Fraternity Housewife Ch. 17

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning I woke to his fingers on my skin (as the old Kris Kristofferson song puts it) and didn't even open my eyes as he did the work this time.

My first orgasm of the day was before I even opened my eyes and my second, this time with him inside of me rather than his lips and tongue driving me wild, was even better.

Finally, both satisfied I rolled out of bed and made it to the toilet before I left a trail of urine. But it was close. I giggled as he kissed me as I peed and then smiled as he folded a pad of toilet paper to wipe me (front to back as he had been taught), a weird little intimacy I enjoyed.

"Jesus," I said as I stood behind him, my hand aiming him as he peed, "we smell like pussy. Let's shower."

So I shook him and turned on the shower.

I was used to showering with another by then, and I did like getting my back washed. Okay, okay, I enjoyed the attention he paid to my pussy and tits too.

Clean and dry I threw on one of my oversize T-shirts, something that covered my ass and the bush of my pussy if only barely. He had gone to his room and had on casual shorts and a T-shirt when we headed downstairs.

We exchanged "good mornings" with Davey and Wayne, already up and sipping coffee.

I was making coffee when Paula came walking around the corner dressed in a T-shirt shorter than mine, her smooth mons on display.

But that wasn't what made me laugh.

"What?" she said and I just held my hand up and headed into the great room. I got the remote out and turned the TV on. Then I clicked the "smart" button and went to Netflix. By then everybody, including Paula, had joined me. I did a search for "MASH" and found the original movie with Donald Sutherland and Elliot Gould. When it came up I started fast-forwarding.

And then, there it was.

The scene I had been looking for was Jo Ann Pflug playing Lieutenant Dish as she left the 4077th after her night with Painless Pole Waldowski, the dentist with the famously oversize erection. I froze the screen at that five-second shot of her face.

"THAT!" I said, turning to Paula, "is EXACTLY the look on your face this morning."

She giggled and blushed.

Davey came over and got to his knees before me. "Can we keep her," he said, doing a passable imitation of a five-year-old, "I'll feed her and walk her and take care of her."

I laughed and held up my hand, patting him on the head first.

"Paula," I said, "you look like you enjoyed your first night."

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh yeah," she said, giggling, "it was kind of overwhelming."

"Would you like to stay for a week as a trial?" I asked.

"Oh yes," she said, smiling that Jo Ann Pflug smile again.

"Done then," I said, "assuming you guys are okay with that."

Everyone said "yay," hardly to my surprise.

"Now wench," Aaron said, moving to stand before Paula, "my turn," and he held his hand out to her.

She smiled and accepted his hand and they went up the stairs hand in hand.

I was surprised on some level that I wasn't jealous, just happy.

Well, I WAS a little jealous as I watched her magnificent ass peeking out as she went up the steps, but that's another issue.

"Okay," I said, "I'm cookin'. Who's up for eggs."

"Wait," Davey said and sat beside me.

"What honey?" I said, "I'm starved."

"Becky," he said, taking both of my hands in his, "I like Paula. I enjoyed her very much. And yes," and here he threw his country boy grin, "she's good in bed."

I smiled and started to speak but he shushed me with a finger to my lips.

"But," he said, and now he was being very serious, "you'll always be first in my heart."

And dammit, I was crying. When all the rest of them came and said more or the less the same thing I was crying like a damn baby.

"Come to bed with us," he said, standing, "and let us show you."

I laughed and said, "later my love, and thank you, but I really AM starving so let's eat first."

I stood and did a slow turn, my arms out, waggling my eyebrows, and said, "THEN we'll see who wears out who."

"Ummmmm, I think there should be a 'whom' in that sentence somewhere," Thomas said.

So I cooked and we ate and they took me to bed. Eight of them and me and Jesus, it was good. I was spit-roasted (me on my hands and knees, one in me from behind, and one in my mouth for those of you who don't know that term). I was taken vaginally and anally and orally. I gave hand jobs and titty fucking and I loved every minute of it.

Finally, spent and messy, leaking vaginally and anally, semen matting my hair and covering my boobs and much of my face, sweaty and stinking of sex I had them all satisfied. I laid back, exhausted, my hands behind my head, Scott nursing at my breast, and breathed out a long, satisfied sigh.

"What," I asked rhetorically, "is it that all of those idiot women find SO offensive about being a sex object."

Which brought a laugh from Roger who had recovered enough that he kissed me and used that hawser of a cock to fill me back up.

"On that," he said softly in my ear as our bodies merged, "we agree completely my love."

"WHAT!" Aaron intoned, standing in the door with Paula holding his hand, "is going on in here."

It's funny, I guess, how casual you can get when you're having sex with nine men and can't imagine saying "no" to any of them.

"We're celebrating my status as a sex object," I said over Roger's shoulder, holding him to me.

"Well," he said, a chuckle in his voice, "it occurs to me that there is still one member of this marriage who has not sampled the lovely Paula, so when you've rested a bit, please come back to your suite."

I was tired and if we're being honest here, a bit sore, but Roger was patient and managed to take me over the top twice more before he finished.

We laid there, in kind of a pile, Roger and Davey and Thomas and Wayne and I, the rest had drifted off.

Eventually, I disentangled myself from them and wandered down the hall to my own digs. I was leaking and messy but satisfied and happy.

Paula was in my bed, and she looked like I felt.

I couldn't help but giggle as I looked at her there, obviously leaking, and obviously loaded with hair conditioner and skin cream.

"I'm," she started but I touched her lips with my finger and said, "come on honey, shower first."

The shower was fun all on its own. We giggled a lot as we washed each other's faces and hair and bodies. She actually used a little dab of shampoo on my bush. She was slippery as an eel when I used the bar soap on her labia. We used the showerhead on a hose (the single girl's friend) on vibrate to clean each other where we were leaking.

It was fun drying each other too.

But then there was that little moment of awkwardness.

We stood, quiet for a few seconds, looking at each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move I suppose.

Finally, I giggled, stepped forward, reached around, and said, "I've been wanting to get my hands on this big ass since the first time I laid eyes on you."

And the ice was broken.

"And I've been wanting," she said, her hands reaching up and pushing my breasts together, "to motorboat these big tits since I laid eyes on YOU!" and she buried her face between them and blew a raspberry making my squeal and giggle.

We played and giggled and kissed there on the bathroom rug for a while (seconds? Minutes? It was kind of a timeless moment) before I took her hand and led her to the bed.

Our lovemaking was slow and, I suppose, awkward to anyone watching. Neither of us were lesbians. Later, sated and talking over the pillow, our fingers lightly tickling each other, she said she had only been with one woman before, one of those college experiments. And I confessed that there had been a few women during my three-year fuck and suck tour, making her giggle but also leading her to ask, seriously, about that.

And I found myself in the weirdest sexual encounter of many sexual encounters. I was in the arms of this cute, sexy woman whose fingers were playing over my body, kissing her, wanting her, but also engaged in, well, a confessional.

And she took control.

And I liked it.

She swing her legs across me and kind of sat on me, her smooth mons against my bush. She brushed the hair away from my face, kissed me very gently on the forehead and then on my eyelids and my lips before leaning back and saying in a soft, almost hypnotic voice, "dish toots."

I started with, well, the general overview. The divorce. The three years. But she wanted details.

"What was it like, that first night on the road," she whispered, her breath warm in my ear, her smooth mons moving slowly, almost gently, against me.

So I told her of getting a motel room and then walking across the street to a bar. "My tits were bouncing because I left my bra in the room," I said, opening my eyes to meet hers and she smiled and kissed each one individually. I could feel the areolas tighten as she did.

"Go on," she breathed into my ear, her tongue tracing the shell.

"I wanted to be slutty," I said.

"But why, baby," she asked softly, more kisses on my face making it hard to contemplate.

"I was feeling worthless, I suppose," I said, smiling up at the ceiling.

"But why," she asked again, kissing my body, finding exactly the right spots.

"Tell me the worst thing you ever did," she said, her lips blowing on my pubic hair, kissing my nether lips, making me tingle in ways men never did.

"Oh God," I sort of moaned.

"Tell me," she said, her tongue slowly licking up the inside of my outer lips making me squirm.

"Oh God," I moaned again, "once I did a glory hole."

That stopped her.

"A what?" she asked, crawling up and propping her chin on her elbow, looking over at me.

I was surprised that I was crying, not sobbing, just quietly crying, tears running down the sides of my cheeks.

"Okay," I said, drawing a deep breath, "I was in a roadhouse, you know, one of those places straight out of that Patrick Swayze movie, and I had already been fucked once around back, leaning against the loading dock. So the guy brought me back inside and said he had a real deal for me. He took me into a little room, just past the men's room, and had me get on my knees in front of a hole in the wall. For the rest of the night, I sucked every dick that was pushed through that hole while he sat back and watched, telling me what a cumdump I was."

She embraced me, holding me, kissing me, literally kissing away my tears.

"You're not, you know," she said softly.

"Not what?" I asked.

"A cumdump," she said, covering my face with kisses, "Jesus Becky, you're surrounded by men who are in love with you. You're the luckiest woman I know and I just hope to be a part of it."

It was my turn then. I wrapped her into an embrace, rolled on top of her, kissed her, and said, "your turn. Dish."

She giggled and when she didn't say anything I twisted her cute little nipples, pretty hard, and said, "tell me something."

It was her turn to cry now.

"He made me a whore," she said.

"Oh my," I said softly, "literally?"

"Yes," she said. "The first time I thought he was joking but he was serious and made me go with the guy who had paid a hundred dollars."

"And you were okay with that?" I asked, genuinely curious now but certainly not being judgemental.

"Becky," she said, and her eyes were red and streaming now, "I was in love and would do anything for him."

I bent and kissed her.

"How," I started and stopped, getting my thoughts in order, "how many times were you, well, you know."

She giggled at that.

"Rented out?" she asked.

I felt stupid as I said, "yes."

"Oh, God," she said, "probably a hundred. He'd rent a hotel room and I'd just, you know, take whoever he sent up."

"Jesus," I said softly.

She was smiling through tears now and said, "wanna know the worst part?"

"Sure," I said, my fingertips light on her forehead, brushing her hair back, smiling down at her.

She giggled and squirmed around, rolling quickly to get on top, demonstrating that she had spent at least some time in karate dojos too. I could have stopped her but I let her win the fall.

"I LIKED it," she said, her hips thrusting, her smooth mons bumping against mine.

I giggled and said, "you whore you,"

She grinned and said, "yep, I was the happy hooker."

Her fingers had worked down now and she had found my clitoris.

"Wanna know the biggest lesson he taught me?" she asked, her hips working while her finger sent little electric jolts up my body.

She scooted down, moving her legs until her knees were between mine, her fingers were busy now, playing with my pussy where I was slick. The scent of my arousal was strong in the air.

"Sure," I said, gasping a little as her fingers found an especially sensitive spot.

"He taught me," she said, her fingers pushing now, entering me slowly with her hand, "that a girl needs a good stretchin' now and again."

My breath caught as I felt her third knuckles against my labia.

She giggled and gave a final push, entering me with her hand, making me groan and my hips lift to ease the pressure.

"Relax Becky," she said, and she was holding my eyes with hers, "we're just getting started."

I was trying to relax but then I came, suddenly, unexpectedly, and my vaginal muscles, along with the rest of me, clenched.

She smiled, her fingers playing, massaging my uterus, touching my cervix, keeping me going while a second and third wave took me.

When I collapsed she said, again, "relax."

I watched as she reached down with her other hand. I knew what was coming and I wanted it. As her second hand started entering me I pulled my knees up, capturing them with my hands, pulling back until my knees touched my nipples, offering myself.

There was pressure, there was a LOT of pressure, but no pain as she slowly pushed her second hand in, stretching me more than I had been since being in labor with my son.

But she wasn't done yet. She pushed in until both hands were inside of me past her wrists and then she slowly started pushing her elbows apart, opening me every farther.

And I exploded. The orgasm rivaled what had happened when I was paddled, but without the pain. I could feel myself spraying and it was an intensity I could neither understand nor try to stop. My body was bucking and the sound I heard was me, making that sound that can only be written as "aaaaAAAAAAAAhHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii."

When I started to come down she jerked her elbows apart, starting me again.

I was lost. Tears and snot were flying while my head whipped back and forth and I kept making that high-pitched sound.

I was aware of the door opening but I didn't care. I was in a world where the only things that existed were her hands and my pussy.

I was aware, but it didn't really register, when I heard Davey say, "I was worried but I can see you're okay."

I was aware, but couldn't respond, when Wayne said, "damn."

I was aware, but only peripherally, when Thomas said "you guys want to see this."

I was aware, but couldn't do anything about it, that I hadn't taken a breath in a while and my body was starting to panic from oxygen starvation.

When I came the last time I passed out.