Happy New Year? Ch. 02

I watched as Scott knelt between Trish's legs and began to lick her up and down, causing her hips to squirm and buck on the loveseat. I was transfixed as she played with her tits and moaned her approval. Her legs were thrown over Scott's shoulders, locked at the ankles, trying to draw him closer.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and looked directly at me and smiled that quizzical little smile I'd come to know so well.

And as Trish watched us, Cathy knelt down, her knees on either side of mine, her back to me. This position gave her a perfect vantage point from which to watch Trish and Scott . . . and for them to watch us, if they chose to.

Cathy reached between her legs and pulled her panties aside, grasped my straining cock in one hand and positioned it at her opening. As soon as she felt my swollen purple head between her engorged pussy lips, she lowered herself quickly, easily taking me up to the hilt in one motion.

But rather than fucking me furiously, as I had expected, Cathy simply gave out a long sigh and leaned her back against my chest, her head resting on my right shoulder, her left cheek pressed against mine. "Can you see them okay, baby?" she whispered. "I want us to watch them while we fuck."

"I can see just fine," I responded, barely able to get the words out in my excitement and arousal. "Do you want them to watch us, too?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"Oh, fuck yes," she hissed. "I want them to watch me ride your cock. I want them to watch you fuck me. I want them to watch me cum." I was surprised and excited by the crude language coming from my normally reserved wife.

And with that, Cathy began to ride me slowly, leaning forward periodically to brace herself with her hands on my knees, then back again so I could play with her clit.

We watched as Trish experienced what must have been a massive orgasm, courtesy of Scott's apparently very talented tongue. Her eyes were closed tight, her body trembling as the sensations washed over her. She panted and moaned as she thrust her hips over and over, upward against her husband's mouth. And during the entire event, Cathy simply continued to ride my cock slowly, her warm, wet tunnel gripping me like a velvet glove.

When Trish's orgasm subsided, Scott wasted little time moving on to the second act of their most impressive show. As Trish's limp body half sat, half lay against the loveseat, Scott stood up quickly and began to remove his remaining clothes. He ripped off his white dress shirt, then jerked down his slacks and boxers in one smooth motion, leaving him totally naked and beautifully lit by the candlelight and flickering fireplace.

He stood in profile as he undressed and when his cock sprang free of his boxers, Cathy uttered a spontaneous gasp, "Oh . . . my . . . god!" she panted. And I didn't have to ask what she was talking about.

Scott's cock was obviously very much in proportion with his large physical stature, and despite its considerable length and girth, it jutted upward at a 45-degree angle. It truly looked as if you could have hung a 50-pound weight from it.

The sight of Scott's most impressive manhood had an immediate effect on Cathy. She immediately began to increase the pace with which she was riding me, until she was almost bouncing up and down.

She lowered herself with such force over and over again that I worried what might happen if I accidentally popped out for even a moment. I had seen that episode of Grey's Anatomy and I didn't want to end up with a fractured penis like Dr. McSteamy.

Instead of turning immediately toward his wife, who had been revived enough by now that she was watching all the action again, Scott turned first toward Cathy and me until he was facing us directly. As his eyes devoured Cathy's body, which was so clearly on display, he grasped his rigid member and stroked himself slowly as he watched my wife give me the fucking of my life.

His face bore the look of admiration and appreciation as he merely grinned and jacked himself off, increasing his pace until he matched the speed with which Cathy was slamming herself down on me over and over and over.

It took only moments of this for Cathy to cum with a ferocity that was unmatched in the life of our relationship. I felt the waves of pleasure ripple through her pussy as she squeezed me over and over like a hot liquid vice. Her body first went rigid, then began to tremble uncontrollably, until she finally collapsed against me, her back against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder.

Apparently satisfied with what he'd seen, Scott then turned his attention back to Trish, turning her around until she was lying lengthwise on the loveseat, one foot on the floor and the other stretched over his shoulder. Cathy and I watched as Scott positioned himself at her opening, adjusted the angle of his hips slightly, then plunged his massive rod into her in one hard, deep thrust that ended only when his heavy balls slapped against Trish's ass.

As he finally hit bottom, the air seemed to rush from Trish's lungs as if she'd been punched in the gut. However, the rapt expression on her face made it clear that the only sensation she was feeling was pure pleasure.

Scott wasted no time. He began thrusting vigorously, drawing himself nearly all the way out of her welcoming tunnel, before burying his cock over and over again. And even in the subdued lighting, his cock gleamed with the wetness of Trish's nectar.

Having not yet cum myself, it was impossible to watch their erotic display without the expected reaction. Fortunately, Cathy had come to life again and was once more moving up and down on my slippery pole.

However, at this point, I was so aroused that I was no longer content merely to sit there and let my wife do the work. So I quickly lifted myself up and pushed her forward until we were joined doggy style, both of us facing our two friends on the loveseat.

Knowing that I wouldn't be able to last very long, given the incredible visual stimulation, not to mention the physical sensations I was enjoying, I gripped Cathy's hips with both hands and began to thrust with an intensity that mimicked Scott's. In moments I was matching him thrust for thrust.

The room was filled with the sights, the sounds, the smells of sex. Bodies slapping against each other. Grunts, moans, panting. Whimpers of pleasure. And that primitive, musky aroma that elicits the instinctive animal response in each of us.

But, of course, it was impossible to ignore the visual--the amazing sight of Scott driving his prodigious manhood into Trish's beautiful body over and over . . . along with the knowledge that they were watching Cathy and me in the same voyeuristic manner.

Soon, there were the inevitable cries of pleasure, the unintelligible words of release as Scott and I released our seed almost simultaneously, filling our wives with the hot, sticky byproduct of our New Year's Eve adventure.

When the cries of pleasure had died out, the four of us collapsed into two heaps of naked flesh—Scott and Trish on the loveseat and Cathy and me on the floor. I think we must have literally passed out from exhaustion and sexual overload, for how long, I'm not sure.

The next thing I remembered was Cathy waking me gently and pulling me toward our bedroom, stopping just long enough to pull a blanket from a chest by the fireplace and spread it carefully over Scott and Trish.

The two of us then padded down the hall and collapsed again on our own bed. I'm not sure how long I slept, but sometime in the early morning hours I woke again.

Cathy seemed to still be sleeping deeply, but I couldn't go back to sleep this time. All the events of the night before kept running through my brain. Had all that really happened, or was it some kind of erotic dream? If it had happened, what did it mean . . . to our friendship with Scott and Trish . . . to our marriage?

These were not thoughts that produced restful slumber, so I eased myself out of bed so as not to wake my wife, and tiptoed down the hall, wondering what I was going to say to Scott and Trish if they were awake. To my surprise, however, the family room was empty. Their clothes were gone and they had left a note on the coffee table.

"Thanks for a great New Year's Eve," it read. "We caught a taxi home. We need to talk. Scott and Trish."

Indeed, we do need to talk. But the first conversation has to be between Cathy and me. We have to decide exactly where we go from here.

****

Author's Note: I had intended to end the story after Chapter 2. However, the way it evolved leaves things open for at least one more. However, I don't know for certain whether I'm really inspired to write another. Please let me know by your comments or emails whether you'd like to read more about Dan and Cathy and Scott and Trish.