How Firm a Foundation Ch. 01

Showing how our friends supported my wife during her pregnancy.

Chapter 1 of 3

Kay.

There's nothing more disappointing than waking up in the middle of a dream. Especially a nice dream. Especially and erotic dream like the one I was having! Reality hits us like a sledge hammer normally leaving us deflated, disappointed and sad - but not this morning! This morning I woke up to find my beautiful little wife on top of me, naked as the day she was born, lips clamped around my solid penis, head bobbing like she's going for gold in the sex Olympics.

Oh, fuck! I grinned from ear to ear, clenching my buttocks and tensing in her mouth, finding her swollen breasts with my hands. God, they're huge now! Huge and incredibly erotic!

Karen's over seven months pregnant and almost ready to pop, so to speak. I'm looking forward to the birth of course (dreading it too! if I'm honest! gulp!) But I've loved her pregnancy. Her hormones have been in constant overdrive - for a while there, her balance was too! Her equilibrium was all over the place and we, her loving devotees, had to be ready to catch her when she started to fall. Extremely nerve-wracking! There's been a few months of uncontrollable laughing and crying as well - but the part I've enjoyed most is... she's been horny as fuck from the start. When the second term began she went nuts! and demanded round the clock fucking! That was the first time I was grateful she had her two extra-marital lovers - James Thompson, my old school bully and our elderly neighbour, Mr. Rippendale, from across the cul-de-sac. The old man, John, naturally struggles to keep up with her demands but no one makes my wife cum like he does. Pleasuring herself while he watches is a mind-blowing aphrodisiac for Karen. James on the other hand, he fucks her like an animal whenever and wherever. He's most attentive.

And which one of us knocked her up? Who is the father? We just don't know. Karen doesn't want to know and she won't let us either. A difficult thing for us men to accept in the beginning but it's added a frisson of excitement to our relationships and... anyway, the three of us are obsessed with her, each of us in our own way. My wife is adorable. Being petite, with full boobs and a tiny waist, long gorgeous hair down her back, she's by nature, uncommonly fuckable (even more so now that she's fully pregnant, hard as that may be to believe). No. It's more than that. She exudes a kindness... a joy in life that is intoxicating. It's hard to not fall in love with Karen.

And here she was, grinning up at me, her teeth softly biting into my cock-head, her tongue probing my slit - naked - her breasts on both sides of my dick, tickling my pubic hair, brushing my belly - enveloping me with her small perfect mouth.

And tragedy! When I saw the clock my world shattered. "FUCK! I forgot the alarm!!!" I didn't even have time to ejaculate. I was chairing a meeting in 17 minutes!!! I'd summoned down all the big-wigs from head-office to listen to a proposal - a business opportunity that had fallen into my lap. Absolutely critical!

Heart breaking, erection swinging, I leapt out of bed and seized my clothes, apologising to my gorgeous, frustrated wife. "S'okay." she grinned, amused. She intercepted me at the front door though, blocking my way.

"Honey, please! I gotta go!" I laughed.

She kissed my mouth hard. "Hurry home." she smiled, melting my heart. "As fast as you can. My little pussy needs some attention." My cock twitched. Fuck! It was still hard! She squeezed it through my trousers and giggled.

"I will. I'll come home early. The first chance I get!" I promised.

And I was as good as my word. Breaking at least three traffic laws, I sped home at around three in the afternoon with a giant bunch of roses. My heart was racing and my penis semi-hard in my pants as I hurtled into our cul-de-sac. When I saw James Thompson's expensive BMW parked in front of our house however, I knew I'd missed my chance. Devastated, he was probably fucking her right now. "FUCK!" I cursed, slamming the wheel!

My stomach fluttered as I stepped inside, closing the front door. I could hear Karen's laughter and James's voice coming from upstairs. They were in our bed! Every time I saw them screwing was like a dagger through my chest. Even after all this time... I've never gotten used to seeing them together. But my spirits raised as I suddenly heard Mr. Rippendale's voice too. Good. It was highly unlikely they'd both be making love to her so I felt some hope as I ascended the stairs. I could hear John arguing with James in a friendly way and Karen was giggling and talking between them.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

All three of them were naked! My wife was lounging on her back actually on top of James with her legs splayed apart and his fully erect cock resting against her wet, flushed labia. Both her arms were comfortably behind his head, playing with his hair as he caressed her belly and nuzzled her neck. Mr. Rippendale lay beside them on one elbow like a Roman Emperor, stroking her thigh and kissing her breast which brushed against his lips as he chatted. From the way his enormous cock lay flaccid, glistening wet... and from the redness of her pussy, it was quite clear he'd already used my wife.

"Full natural! I like to explore the jungle!" Mr. Rippendale objected cheerfully, waving hello to me.

"Rubbish!" James argued. "I like my pussy like I like my coffee. Absolutely no pubic hair!"

Laughing, my wife smiled sexily at me and explained, "John wants me to grow a bush. What do you think, sweetie?"

I glanced at her bald pussy as she gently gyrated her hips for me, luxuriating as James's erection slid lusciously over her surface. She made an appreciative little gasp as he reached down and pressed her clit, digging his strong fingers into her glistening flesh.

John said, "The hair shows something! It also makes it... I don't know... mysterious!"

"Mysterious?" scoffed James. "Don't be ridiculous! It's like fucking a gorilla!"

"And you've fucked a gorilla?" asked John.

"I've fucked many! And the one thing they all had in common - they were all too hairy!"

Oh my God, what a sight! Naked, in the arms of these two men, my sweet little wife - the sight was enough to stop my heart. My cock was instantly hard and I didn't care if it looked ridiculous in my trousers.

John lazily licked Karen's nipple and then kissed her mouth. Karen's tongue licked lips appreciatively and she smiled.

"Maybe I could grow a little landing strip?" she moaned, still kissing.

"But it looks so good bald!" said James, pinching her clit, licking her neck. "You have the sexiest little cunt!"

"Hmmm. Thanks babe." she grinned, turning and kissing him openly with her tongue. At the same time, she lifted her hips slightly so James could enter her. I watched mesmerised as his hard member slid between her labia, sinking slowly into my wife's wet, sensual cunt. She moaned with pleasure.

"What is a Brazilian?" asked John.

Karen and James snickered, grinning at the pensioner.

"It's more than a million but less than a trillion." James offered. Karen swatted his arm playfully and told him to stop teasing. She kissed John's lips and sighed, smiling as the old man caressed her bald pubic mound, circling the bud of her clit with his large rough fingers. "Oh... wow... uh..." she breathed, rotating her hips slowly on James's huge veiny cock.

"Right. How about you two leave now so I can screw this little slut in peace?" said James, making my wife giggle.

"Would you please not call this wonderful woman a slut?" John objected, frowning, kissing her cheek. Karen's lips kissed his and she started laughing.

"Oh, but it's kinda true!" she said. "James is right! I am a slut! I'm a horny little fuck-slut!" Proudly, she demonstrated this by sliding up and down on James's cock for us.

"That's right, baby." James said. "Who's little slut are you?"

"Yours baby! I'm your little slut. I'm James's little... gasp! little, fucking slut!"

James put his fingers in her mouth and she started sucking and licking them, fucking his huge pole slowly from tip to balls. "I'm James's horny little... fucking cunt. Oh, God! Fuck, that feels so good! I love your cock in me! I'm such a fucking whore!"

"That's right. You're a cheating, cock-obsessed little cunt."

"Oh, James! Fuck, yes!"

"Can I stay?" I asked suddenly, hating the little whine in my voice. My cock was an iron-bar in my trousers. It was the first thing I'd said to my wife since walking into the room. She smiled at me somewhat pityingly. "No, sweetie." she said. "James likes to fuck me in private. He likes to do really dirty things to me. Isn't that right, baby?"

"That's right." he said, closing his huge hand around her slender throat. My wife's eyes rolled back with pleasure and she spread her legs wider, fucking with more urgency.

"Come on son, let's leave them to it." said John, gathering up his clothes and following me out of the room. "I'll make us a big pot of chilli for dinner. While we wait downstairs."

It turns out we had to wait more than two hours. Humiliated, I sat listening to our bed slamming and creaking for two fucking hours! At one point I heard my wife scream out "I love you James! Pound that fucking cunt! Fuck! I love you!" John glanced at me and then quickly away, ineffectually hiding the pity on his face.

-

Karen, showered, hair slicked back and carrying a luscious aroma of rose soap, entered the living room wearing a long bathrobe. She was glowing. James, now that his balls were empty was interested only in the chilli and made for the kitchen, fixing two bowls.

"Come here, babygirl." Mr. Rippendale beckoned to my wife who skipped childishly past me into his inviting arms. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa. "Was that nice honey?" he inquired opening her robe to reveal her nakedness, cupping her ass with both hands, kissing her belly.

"He did very naughty things to me." she grinned, running her hands through his white hair, leaning down and kissing his lips. Giggling, she batted her boobs against his cheeks making him laugh. He kissed her nipples gently, causing her to close her eyes and sigh with pleasure.

"James just shot a colossal load inside me! I swear, I think he's been saving it up! I was in the shower for ages but I'm not sure I got all of it out." she said this, placing her foot on the chair, sliding her fingers between her fleshy folds. When she put those same fingers into John's mouth, he made Karen grin as he closed his eyes and made an appreciative "hmmm" sound, like he was tasting soup.

"Fuck! This chilli is fucking good!" said James, snapping me back to reality. He emerged from the kitchen carrying a bowl.

"Chilli! Goodie! I'm starving!" Karen cried gleefully, springing for the kitchen. John managed to slap her naked ass and she squealed gleefully, tying up her robe. She ruffled my hair as she skipped past me, noticing my erect trouser tent and choosing to ignore it.

-

James departed early in the evening leaving us to enjoy the rest of the night in front of the T.V with Mr. Rippendale. John spends a lot of time in our company, being a lonely old widower. And, as I said before, my wife is infatuated with him. I understand why. He's witty and intelligent and ultimately charming and kind. He's led a full life and loves to talk. He and my wife will converse for long hours, long after I've lost interest. If that isn't incentive enough, Karen refuses point blank to wear clothes in his company even when Sam, Michelle and Kay are visiting! The girls' often rendezvous with Karen at Mr. Rippendale's home for afternoon tea. And if she hasn't already discarded her clothes she soon will. They don't mind one bit. It adds another frisson of excitement I suppose. Frissons all round! But for Karen, there's more to it than just the thrill of being naked. It's an intimate connection that formed the night John rescued her.

At the end of their "dates", James Thompson always returned my wife nude. He got a thrill from the way she squirmed and hid every time they stopped at traffic lights or passed a bus. He especially enjoyed her terrified little sprint to our front door, praying the neighbours might not see. But on this particular night I wasn't at home to let her in and James sped off, leaving her cringing with humiliation and downright terror. He didn't mean to. He just didn't hang around long enough. So there she was, naked, in front of the whole street! Mr. Rippendale, who was watching from his house across the cul-de-sac, rescued her.

And... well, as I say, my wife insists on being naked in his company. Weird, I know. As weird for John as it is for me but somehow, I've gotten so used to it I barely notice. No. That's an utter lie! I notice it. God! How can I not! I tolerate it. That's more the truth!

As normal, the three of us enjoyed the rest of the night watching TV and chatting - me in my armchair, my wife, as was her habit, nestled under John's arm wearing no clothes whatsoever while he was fully dressed. One of his hands cupped her full breast, his thumb softly caressing her nipple. "I love when he touches me." she confided to me. "His ancient strong, rough man-hands. He makes me tingle!" As a rule, she moves his hand to her pussy because she loves the way he toys and tugs her labia. She makes me do the same when we're alone. It's comforting to be touched. Heart-stopping to watch though, especially when she pulls his old dick out of his trousers just so she can have something to play with in her hand.

They forget I'm there sometimes. If they do notice, spotting my trouser tent and palpitations, they tend to smile indulgently, somewhat pityingly - like I'm a small boy sneaking a peek at his Mother getting dressed. I try to appear mature and disguise the fact I'm watching and I guess it works 'cos they disregard me so completely now that they think nothing of having long make-out sessions in my company. A slow half hour at a time; Karen lovingly sucking the old man's tongue and encouraging their spit to spill onto her breasts for him to lick; feeding her nipples into his mouth. She'll suckle his flaccid penis like a dummy-tit - not trying to make it hard or anything but because she enjoys having his manhood in her mouth. Seriously, she'll browse through her phone while she sucks him off. She'll flick through the T.V, read a book or even have a conversation with me! John's old cock reaches semi-hardness most of the time but if he does get a full-on boner, he'll lift her up onto his lap and enter her. Right in front of me. He'll just open her legs and fuck her. Karen doesn't mind it at all. She encourages it.

-

It was very late when the doorbell rang and Karen sat bolt upright, reaching guiltily for her robe with wide eyes, like a teenager whose parents had come home unexpectedly and caught her making out with her boyfriend. "Who's that?" she wondered nervously. "At this time of night?"

Giving her plenty of time to secure her huge bath robe - not even her neck was visible - I answered the door and was shocked to find Stephen standing there in the rain - one of my closest childhood friends. No car. He'd walked! He was soaking wet, ashen pale and miserable. It was clear something awful had happened but before I could ask, he surprised me by saying - "You're here!"

Frowning, puzzled, I replied, "Of course I'm here. This is my house. Where else would I be?"

He looked at me for a long time. "I thought..." he began hesitantly, "I thought you were with my wife."

His wife? With Kay? "What the heck are you talki-" I stopped. He was crying! My friend was actually crying! The last time I saw him cry was in the playground! I pulled him inside.

Karen cried out in alarm when she saw him, "Honey! What's wrong?" She flinched when she touched his sleeves, discovering that his coat was soaked and automatically assumed the command of a maternal drill-Sargeant. Ignoring his protests she yanked the sodden coat off his shoulders, ordering me to fetch a towel, grab the whiskey and put on the kettle for tea. Mr. Rippendale hovered awkwardly in the background smiling sympathetically.

"Stephen, love. This is Mr. Rippendale. Our neighbour from across the road."

"John. Please." said Mr. Rippendale, stepping in and gripping Stephen's hand firmly with affection.

"Stephen is Kay's husband." Karen told John.

The old man's expression brightened. "Oh, son. Yes, of course! Kay! Oh, Kay is a lovely young woman! Very pleased to meet you."

"You know my wife?" Stephen asked with some surprise. "She's never mentioned you, I don't think."

Karen threw in quickly, "Yeah. I've had the girls' over to John's for tea a couple of times. He has a wonderful... collection of old photographs."

"Oh, really? That's nice." Stephen nodded.

She looked guilty and no wonder. Tea. Yeah, is that what you call it? The four of them fuck that old man so often I'm actually amazed they haven't killed him! So, I pondered. Kay's never mentioned her afternoon visits to Mr. Rippendale's. I wonder if Sam and Michelle have told their husbands. I suspect not.

As Karen accompanied John to the front door to leave, Stephen said to me, "Nice old man. I wonder that Kay's never mentioned him before. Probably she has and I haven't paid any attention."

Was it two months ago? I went over to John's and found him making love to the four girls' on the couch - Kay, on his lap, forcing herself down onto his dick and screaming, "Push it through my cervix! Deeper! Fuck me! Deeper!" her gorgeous little blonde cunt was stretched to its absolute limit and still she was only halfway down his pole.

"I'll stick the kettle on and get you a towel." I told him, sighing.

Karen was gone longer than expected but it gave us time to sort the tea. She bustled in with towels and urgently clasped both Stephen's hands. "What's wrong Honey? Tell me." She wiped his brimming tears with unfeigned tenderness.

Stephen stammered, disarmed. His lip started to quiver. "Kay's... Kay's cheating on me!"

"Oh, God! You poor thing!" Karen's small hands rested on his chest momentarily and then hurriedly began unbuttoning his shirt. She waved away his protests. "We need to get you out of these wet clothes. I'm not having you die of pneumonia." and she jumped up on tip-toes and affectionately pecked him on the mouth. He was taken aback and glanced at me unsure. I smiled supportively. He only snapped back when she asked, "What makes you think she's cheating?"

"Er... I... er... I caught her."

Karen pulled off the shirt. "Oh, you poor thing!" She wrapped her arms around his waist and clenched him tightly like a teddy bear.

A tiny little bit of wife-swapping has occurred within our group, let me add. Karen has had sex with Stephen two times but even though, he still stiffened at this closeness. I patted his shoulder, handing him his tea. When it became clear that Karen wasn't going to release her grip on him he forced himself to relax and hugged her back. Then he started sobbing. Sobbing hard like a little kid. It was shocking and heart-wrenching. I took his cup out of his hand and placed it down on the table somewhat at a loss.

My wife held him for a long, long time as he cried and eventually, when the moment was right, she pulled his head down so she could kiss his face all over, covering him with little pecks. He grinned, wiping his tears and blowing his nose. "Get these off too." she ordered. Deftly, before he knew it, she got him out of his wet trousers, socks and shoes. "Sit down here on the couch and tell us what happened."

Karen took up her position on the floor in front of him, smiling gratefully as I fetched her a pillow to kneel on. Her house-coat parted so that her legs were bare but she made no effort to cover them up. Stephen stared momentarily at her pretty little feet and gulped. "Drink your tea. Good. Now. Why do you think Kay's cheating?"