Going Dutch

Jess smiled.

"Sure," she said, giving me a smile.

I lay back, and she leant over me. She supported herself with one arm and guided my cock to her mouth with her other hand. It took a little longer that it would have otherwise, because my head was still taking in that my wife had just been fucked, but she got there. My cock was not as concerned about Gloria having had Pieter come inside her as my head was. It thinks for itself, and it was hungry for some action.

Jess climbed on top, straddling me. She lowered herself onto my cock, taking every inch, her cunt wet and slick and as tight as a glove.

The couple who had occupied the space vacated when Jess had gone to the bathroom, had shifted to one side now that she was back. Gloria and Pieter looked at the vacant area of grey vinyl, and Pieter guided Gloria to lie back as Jess had done, and got down on his knees again, ready to express his appreciation for her understanding. A moment later, his head was between my wife's thighs, and she turned towards me.

"Thank you," she mouthed.

"Thank you for not making a fuss. Thank you for staying cool. Thank you for going along with what I said. Thank you for being the guy I love."

Of course she did not say all that, but I could read her mind.

Jess was already raising and lowering herself, using her hands on my chest to steady herself, taking it high so that the ridge of my cock emerged from her dark slit each time she lifted her body. As she lowered herself again, my cock head had to push back inside, stretching the opening of her cunt, which teased and tantalised the million nerve endings on the taut skin of the head. I still managed to reply to my wife, albeit hesitantly, just a single, unassuming word.

"Okay," I mouthed.

The hesitation I was feeling was more about the guy now licking out my wife. Having fucked her, and come so quickly, it was only fair that he attended to her needs. Gloria might have orgasmed when he had come in her, but she could come again and be more ready to enjoy it a second time around. Just the same, the misunderstanding, that it had been Jess that Pieter was supposed to fuck, and instead he had fucked my wife, still got to me. Maybe this was one time I might have preferred my wife not to be quite so accommodating.

Dreamily, clearly enjoying the tongue lapping and probing at her cunt, my wife reached for her friend's left breast, playing with the jet black, cherry nipple stub. Pieter was paying homage, not so much cleaning my wife's pussy after having fucked her, since his cream had been caught by the condom he had been thoughtful enough to wear, but taking his time the same way he had with Jess. He seemed to be making up for the less leisurely fucking he had given her just minutes earlier, and his having come inside her almost before she realised that she was being fucked.

What I did not expect was for Pieter to fuck my wife again, and this time to fuck her bare.

Gloria was clearly enjoying what Pieter was doing to her cunt. The guy knew how to lick a woman's pussy. This was not just my wife doing her thing of making everyone feel good about a situation. I can tell when my wife is turned on, and I knew for sure that she was loving the sensation of a stranger licking her, lapping at her cunt, sucking on her labia, and delving between them with his tongue.

Her body was gently writhing to his movements of his head and tongue. Her back would arch a little, then subside. Her head angled itself back, as if looking to see what was going on behind her on the bed, but I knew that that was sheer enjoyment she was unconsciously revealing. Her hands were at her breasts now, playing with her own nipples, adding the the stimulation of stranger's tongue on wide open cunt.

Any guy who has ever loved a woman knows that there is a point when he realises for sure that she is his. As considerate as he might have been to find his way between her legs, she is no longer evaluating, thinking rationally, or making up her mind, but has given in to instincts that run deep inside, genetically encrypted back in prehistoric times, Darwin's theory of evolution, when women fucked whoever claimed them, got impregnated, carried the child, and then got fucked again, the cycle repeating so as to propagate the species.

Once the woman has reverted to this state, she then exists purely as the nerve endings beneath the surface of her skin, under her areoles, within her nipple stubs, around her mons, within her vaginal wall, and that other, all the more sensitive, nervous system, packed so densely in the nub of her clitoris, with every touch, stroke, and caress, making her long to be penetrated, to receive his cock, to have it slide lovingly deep inside her, to know the delicious graze of cock shaft against her clit, heightening her desire to achieve the outpouring, sensual overflow of female orgasm, her prehistoric instincts tightening her cunt around the invading cock, internal muscles rippling against the head and shaft, her body shuddering, stimulating his reciprocal explosion of thick, creamy semen, the reason for her very being.

When that point has been reached, the guy can take advantage, can mount her, can fuck her which way and every way he chooses, and all she will want is more, and my wife had reached that point. Pieter sensed it. He licked his way from Gloria's cunt, up the groove between thigh and lower abdomen, diagonally across her belly, kissing the undersides of her full breast, mouthing her wide, black areole, and sucking her nipple stub and as much breast flesh as he could manage, into his gaping, ravenous mouth.

As he kissed and licked his way from cunt to breast, his legs straightened, his body moving upwards over Gloria's, his cock somehow again protruding from his flies, rock solid. My wife's arms were now on either side of her, her breasts conceded to his mouth, but her hands cupped his head, loving what he was doing to her, her legs opening even wider. He moved further, kissing her neck, nibbling at her ear, while reaching beneath his body, guiding his cock one handed.

Even Jess's riding of my own cock could not distract me from what was about to happen. I watched this time, as the Dutch guy angled his cock to touch between my wife's parted labia, the thick head opening her and sliding in, and as he moved further up her body, the shaft easing deeper, my wife's legs instinctively circling his, welcoming him inside her. He had fucked her once already. One more time would change nothing

This time my cock did not go limp. Whatever my reservations, my cock found watching the scene even more arousing. It pulsed with vigour, loving the feel of Jess's cunt, and loving the visual stimulus of Pieter entering my wife. Looking back, three elements of what was happening fused together in whichever part of my brain gets turned on by sexual thoughts, ideas and imaginings.

First, it was another guy's cock, not mine. No one else had fucked my wife since we had met, and the fact that Pieter had already been there, and had come while he was deep inside her, did nothing to stem the fascination I experienced from watching my wife being taken by another guy, her cunt greedy for his rock hard shaft.

Second, this time there was no condom. He was bare. The guy was skin on skin inside my wife, just I was, inside Jess. If he came again, this time it would be to leave his semen behind, all his miniscule Dutch sperm swimming randomly inside my wife, trying to find an egg that, fortunately, would not be available, since she was on the pill, but the thought of his sperm inside her was still incredibly mind blowing. Somehow, it was simultaneously alarming yet a massive turn on, our innocent play in the club suddenly given an edge, a frisson, like no other.

Thirdly, and maybe even the ultimate turn on, my wife, the woman that I loved, was in no way holding back. Her ankles were locked around the guy, her arms wrapped around his back, her cunt now his, conquered, subjugated, and taken possession of by the solidity of his hard cock. She had given in to the inate desire within her, the taboo, assumed forbidden to those who foreswore all others, to be taken, to have men use her, to receive their cocks, their semen, their sperm, and to be given as her reward, unfettered female orgasm.

The Dutch guy clearly knew that she was now his to fuck the way he wanted to. He reached for her legs, uncoupling them. One after the other, he pulled each leg up tucking each calf beneath a shoulder, her feet stretched in the air above his head, her shoes discarded somewhere, but her the leather anklets she had worn to match her body harness, still in place.

Gloria was now bent double, pinned down, her cunt raised, his cock still embedded there. She was staring at her captor, waiting, but he was not satisfied. He did something I had never done with her, not in any club, not even in the privacy of our home.

The guy took my wife's left arm, and raised it, as if he were inviting her to take hold of her ankle, except he had clearly seen the clip dangling from her leather wrist cuff. He clipped the wrist cuff to her matching leather anklet, then did the same with her other arm and leg, and my compliant wife did no more than allow herself to be restrained, her cunt now truly his.

There is slow and gentle thrusting, and there is hard, slamming, fucking that makes the woman's body reverberate with its force, and draws grunts from her throat as air is forced from her lungs with the violence of the momentum. Pieter started fucking my now bent double wife, and it was not slow and gentle fucking.

I could almost sense heads turning. Most fucking in the club is relatively quiet, accompanied by muted moans and soft cries of pleasure, but Gloria was no longer in control, and her open mouthed shrieks of ecstasy I am sure were heard in every corner of the club's play space.

My wife alternated between whimpers, loud guttural groans and high pitched cries as the guy pounded her cunt. Some were no more than noise, but amidst the grunting and screaming one sound could be distinguished for what it was, a phrase I had heard so often when I fucked my wife like that, emitted in a gasp, interspersed with moans and yelps and screams, but repeated again and again as Pieter fucked her.

"Yes, baby!", "Yes!", "Baby, yes!", "Oh Baby", "Oh yes!", "Oh baby, yes! yes!"

If you have ever wondered why a woman calls her guy her baby, the explanation is quite simple. It is that old prehistoric instinct. It is not that the guy is literally her baby, but his semen is, or will become her baby. It reflects the yearning for impregnation. That was where my wife's head was at. Pieter had reduced her to nothing more than prehistoric woman crying out to be filled with sperm, seed, spunk, jism, cum, white, creamy ejaculant, to be hosed with it, her womb drenched and steeped in it, and everyone who heard her knew that this was what she had become.

I watched as Gloria writhed beneath him, her upturned feet flailing ineffectually in the air, her arms uselessly dragged from side to side, wrists linked to ankles, or stretched long, as her legs tried to stretch, constrained by her cuffs, and by the guy's shoulders pressing down on them, her head turning from side to side as if in disbelief that this was happening, yet wanting it not to stop, and all the Dutch guy did was to steadily hammer at her cunt with his hard cock, rhythmically, incessantly.

Until he stopped pounding her cunt, and started screwing her instead.

Still in his shirt and trousers, Pieter literally moved his butt in circles, twisting and turning his cock in her. With this kind of motion, his cock head would be no longer thrusting straight and deep, but sideways, upwards, downwards, every which way, Gloria's cries becoming low moans as he expertly stirred her cunt with his cock.

He paused again, leaning to one side and using the flat of his hand to smack my wife's upturned butt with a resounding thwack. She gave a shriek. It would have hurt, but the guy resumed his fucking, tormenting her, confusing her senses so that pain became inter-twined with pleasure, screwing her again, and moments later hammering her with his cock, Gloria again giving out loud cries and moans that echoed around the club.

I like to think that I know how to fuck a woman. I also believe that a wife deserves respect not least in the way her husband makes love with her. In Gloria I had found a woman to be loved, valued and respected for who she is. I respect her need for tender, gentle, appreciative love-making, but I also respect her other, deeper need for serious fucking.

Nothing Pieter was doing to my wife was new to me, other than the fastening of her wrist cuffs to her ankles to keep her legs raised, even without the need for the weight of his torso to restrain her . I had hammered Gloria's cunt countless times, had screwed her with my cock, had smacked her butt, and had made her cry and scream and whimper. To be honest, I had done much more, but watching another man plough her cunt the way that Pieter was, was just incredible.

The guy played with her senses. He mixed it up, so that she had no way of knowing what was coming next. He hammered, screwed, smacked, screwed, smacked, paused, hammered, paused, kept her in suspense, smacked, screwed, hammered, on and on. Gloria gasped, whimpered, cried out, moaned, whimpered, gasped, groaned, swore, shrieked, wailed, yelped, and screamed. He hammered, she gave out loud moans and gasps. He screwed, she whimpered and snivelled. He thwacked her butt, she yelped like a wounded puppy. He paused, she pleaded for more, or for mercy, or both at once.

Watching all of this, both Jess and I were temporarily more fascinated at what was taking place just two feet away from us, than in Jess's riding of my cock, still embedded deep in her as she squatted, unmoving, on my groin. She had stopped moving, and was squatting with my cock deep inside her slit of a cunt, watching, as awestruck as I was, to see her friend on the receiving end of such an onslaught.

I was stunned. Suddenly I saw my wife so differently, the woman that I loved so clearly imbued with raw sexual needs and desires that responded not just to my own love making, but to whoever got to enjoy her. This was not about love, or being faithful, or loyalty to a spouse, but nothing more than crude, visceral, sexuality, a primal need to be sated, the guy, the cock, totally irrelevant to her need for carnal gratification, for sexual desire to be fully and exquisitely slaked and quenched.

While for Pieter, this was not about winning my wife for himself, understanding her soul, having her fall in love with him, or vying for her affection. She was a plaything, a toy, a real, live sex doll, responsive flesh, that could be used, manipulated, teased and tormented, and which he knew craved everything he did. He had the advantage. He had come already. He could fuck my wife like this all night long.

Achieving orgasm, for some women, comes only when the right, precise stimulation is enjoyed, under the right circumstances, with the right lover, and can be a rare, precious thing. Some need more that the regular, rhythmic thrusting of a cock. They need a finger playing with their clit, or a vibrator, augmenting the cock, helping them reach their nirvana.

Others just need to be fucked. Anatomically, their clitoris is located right where it is grazed by cock shaft as it is thrust deep inside them, the wet, lubricated skimming of hard, cylindrical flesh against that pink protrusion packed with sensitised nerve endings proving more than enough stimulation to take them all the way to sensual heaven. My wife is one of these more fortunate women. She just needs to be fucked.

When it happened, Gloria gave out a long wail of desperation, joy, anguish, hopelessless, elation, rapture, bliss. Her whole body shuddered. I know, from experience, that the intensity can be more than she can take. I have licked her cunt until she has begged for me to stop, that it is too much for her, yet the Dutch guy kept on fucking, slowing slightly, thrusting not quite as hard, but fucking my wife without a moment's respite just the same.

My wife moaned, not just for a brief moment, but for a long minute, more, one continuous wailing groan of submission to the guy's steady fucking, her body still shuddering and shaking beneath him. Trapped beneath his shoulders, her legs fought to be free, to no avail. She writhed, ankle cuffs pulling on wrist cuffs, her arms flailing wildly following the movement of her legs. Her whole body struggled to escape the onslaught, twisting and turning, limbs thrashing, head swerving from side to side, mouth agape, groaning and crying out, and the guy slowed even more, but continued fucking as she squirmed and strained against her leather bonds, his body weight, and the cock that was steadily ploughing the wetness of her cunt.

I sensed movement at my own groin, and looked to see Jess playing with her clit, bringing herself off to the spectacle of her friend being so thoroughly fucked right beside her. Her orgasm was more gentle, but I felt the vibrations of her cunt around my cock. Her vaginal muscles rippled, playing deliciously at my cock head and my frenum.

Jess caused this to happen, but she was also my excuse for coming, for my ejaculating to the sight of my wife being fucked, not just fucked but ravished, by another guy. How was I supposed to hold back when my cock was at the receiving end of a woman in orgasm, while I watched my own wife writhing in ecstasy as another guy plundered her cunt.

Pieter was last to come. With my wife's legs tucked beneath his shoulders, her thighs crushing her breasts, the soles of her feet skywards, hands locked beside them, her head still turning from side to side in denial that she had been ridden to such an extreme orgiastic height, the guy allowed himself finally to ejaculate a second serving of sperm laden semen into her, and at that moment I knew that in spite of what was happening, or because of it, my love for my wife had just intensified.

It might also have been lust. I wanted this woman more than ever. I adored my wife's sexuality, her wantonness, her open, unashamed decadence that Pieter's fucking of her had laid bare. As Pieter released the clips that had held her wrists to her ankles, and lowered her legs, I looked forward to holding Gloria and telling her how proud I was of her, for giving herself so completely, so fully, nothing of herself held back.

For several long minutes, not one of the four of us moved. Then Pieter withdrew. He stood, a smile on his lips, tucking his cock out of sight, zipping closed his fly. Jess dismounted, my semen oozing from her, trailing down her inner thigh. I reached out my arm to Gloria, who turned to me, came close, and tucked herself softly against me, her head on my shoulder, her hand moving to my cock.

Incredibly, my cock was still rock hard. Even after releasing its load inside Jess, it had stayed erect. It was slick with my semen and Jess's secretions, but standing proud.

Neither of us spoke, both of us still taking in what had just taken place. Gloria played on my cock shaft with her fingers, not holding it, but finger tip touching along its length, her thumb tip playing on the frenum.

Right then, while I was still reeling from having watched Pieter fuck her, I knew deep down how much I loved this woman, how much I wanted her. I loved the body that was pressed against me, the softness of her breasts, her compact frame, the perfect roundness of her buttocks, the warmth of her groin. I loved the person, her generosity of spirit, her big-heartedness, her innate kindness.

I used the arm with which I was holding her, my hand beneath her hip, easing her onto my torso, and she understood. She roused herself, brought one leg over me to the other side of my body, her hands on my chest, raising her body, kneeling above me, lifting her butt, reaching beneath for my cock, touching the head to her cunt, and impaling herself on it.