If At First You Don't Succeed...

"I suppose so," Pat sighed.

"And," Rick added, dryly, "the night is yet young."

She looked at him sharply.

"Of course," she said. "Selfish me. Gimme five, kay?"

Don could hardly believe it, but five was all she took. The wheel was spun. Red again.

Don sat on the couch, his groin on its edge. His cock was in a familiar place. This time she used her hands as well. She knelt on a cushion, which raised her rump to just the right height. Rick's cock slid in and out of her vagina, from behind. It was one of Pat's favorite positions. Perhaps because Rick could last for ever.........

Chapter 4: Don.

Don sat in his car outside his apartment, not daring to enter. His body was still shaking. He felt giddy. Jane would be asleep. But what if she wasn't? She'd notice... something.

It seemed like a dream.....

How many times had he come? He'd lost count. How many times did Pat come? Many times more. What a libido!

An hour of doggie – she'd taken three loads --- followed immediately by an hour on her back on the coffee table, one cock pumping her vagina, another embedded in her mouth, followed by....?

It all got jumbled up.

Except for the grande finale. That, for sure, was indelibly imprinted on his hard drive.

It was Rick's turn. Don had just come – yet again. Rick had Pat sit on him, impaled, facing forwards so she could pump Don's cock back to life.

"Real hard," Rick said, thrusting into Pat from beneath. "Make it real hard."

When it was, Rick pulled Pat back so she was lying on him, his cock still filling her swollen, red raw vagina.

"OK, Don. Feels real nice in here. Wanna join in?"

For a moment, Don had not understood. When he did he glanced at Pat.

'What really?'

But her head was back, her eyes closed.

"Will it fit?"

What a dumb question!

"Let's find out. Nice and slow, now."

Don placed his left hand on the backrest of the sofa to take his weight, leaned forward and used his right hand to guide his cock to Pat's vaginal opening – which, blocked by Rick's cock, was not exactly open.

"Jes' hold it in place and push."

"It'll hurt."

"Jes' do it!"

Hell, it was Rick's turn. Pat had agreed.

Don did as he was told. At first, firm resistance.

An 'Oh!" from Pat.

"Harder. Shove harder."

Don sighed, but complied.

To his astonishment, Pat's vaginal opening suddenly gave way.

"Oh! Oh! Shit, Yes!" from Pat.

Half a cock head ---

"Harder!"

Then all of it...

"Right in, far as you can go."

"Oh! Ohshit!" from Pat. Her hands clutched her breasts.

Don pushed harder. Gradually, his cock slid deeper and deeper into Pat's vagina.

"Aaaarrgghhhh!......Ugh! AAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"

Not pain. Definitely not pain!

"More," came Pat's voice. "Fuck me, fuck me!"

Don began to slide his cock in and out of Pat's liquid vagina, which somehow found room to expand and contract. Her body writhed, her hands squeezed her breasts, flayed about.....

"Ugh! Agh! Yes! Yes! Aaaarrrrggghhhhh! OHSHIT!!"

Pat collapsed back onto Rick's chest, panting. Her rib cage stretched, her nipples stiff and proud.

"Let's swap. Gotta try that."

Gingerly, Don withdrew. Rick lifted Pat's rump off him so his cock fell onto his stomach. He patted the sofa. Don sat obediently.

Pat was now lying on him, impaled on his cock. Rick pumped himself hard, then bent forward. Gradually, his large cock slid against Don's into Pat's vagina.

"You ok?" This to Pat.

"Ugh!"

Slowly, Rick slid his penis in and out, against Don's and the stretched upper wall of Pat's vagina.

"Grab my tits," she moaned. "I don't have the strength...."

Don did. He squeezed.

"Harder!"

Pat came again, then again, less volubly as the energy was drained out of her. But she came one more time, when Rick said

"Here she goes! Aaaahhh! Shit!"

Don felt Pat's body go rigid. Her vagina contracted around dual phalluses, squeezing them, as Rick's seed shot into her. Her body shook, his body shook. On and on...

Slowly they disengaged. Rick flopped back on the couch.

"Holy shit!" He was spent.

Pat opened an eye.

"Hey!" she said, eyeing Don's erection. "You didn't come. Felt like two!"

"It's ok," Don said. "I've come more times tonight...."

Which was as far as he got.

Pat was on her haunches, between his knees. She used both hands.

"Agh!...... Ugh!....."

It didn't take long. A massive exhalation of breath was accompanied by a fountain of semen that shot up into the air, a full meter.

"That's better," Pat said, before collapsing onto the carpet in a huddle....

It was not a dream. It had really happened.

Don expected that this night of wild, wild sex would still desire for a month. However, the opposite turned out to be the case, and when, to his delight Jane arrived home that Thursday, and indicated willing, he was so charged up still, he came three times inside her before his cock finally gave up the ghost.

Fortunately, Jane came to the wrong conclusion.

"Maybe I should starve you more often," she said, coyly, along with the goodnight kiss.

When Rick had not contacted him by Tuesday noon, Don became concerned. He texted Rick:

'we on, 7pm?'

Back came.

'my turn ffm,  rick'

Don was shocked. Nothing had been said about a repeat. He'd just assumed.

FFM? They'd found another woman?

Depression. He'd already told Jane he was going to the gym after work.

"Maybe late home. Harry's birthday," he'd lied.

"Ok," Jane had replied, nonchalantly.

He did go to the gym, but his heart was not in it. He made excuses to the guys, showered early and headed home. He 'wasn't feeling so great', he'd tell Jane.

But when he got home, Jane was not there. She was not watching tv, she was not in the kitchen, the den, the bathroom, the bedroom....?

There was no note.

Don was one puzzled puppy.

Chapter 5: Jane and Pat and Rick.

When Jane received the invitation she didn't know what to make of it. They'd been to Pat's for dinner – who could forget? But this was not 'they'. Just Jane. What? A hen party? She'd tried to ask Pat, but she was 'in a meeting'. Whenever Jane asked? Odd.

Ever since the dinner, Jane had wondered about her boss. The contrast between Pat in the office, efficiency personified, fair, but strict, and Pat 'at play' confused her. Which was the real Pat? It did not seem possible that it could be both.

It should have, because Jane was herself 'two women' – one on Thursday evenings, another the rest of the time. But if you had put this to Jane, she would have denied it vigorously.

Jane was in many ways quite naïve. A strict home had left her sheltered from the 'dating scene'. She'd 'seen' boys at high-school and college, but not in 'that way'. Her parents would not have approved, as they would not have approved of her moving in with Don. Where's the ring, they'd say? Jane hoped one day there would be a ring. Maybe with Don. He was a nice guy. But she was 23 years old. It was her life. She was in no hurry.

Her parents would have disapproved of Don, but gone apoplectic if they'd known about 'The Movement'. Something so pure, so wonderful, so inspiring, uplifting – Jane's parents would not accept this could occur except in their church. The church was strict, restricting, 'The Movement', every bit as spiritual, but the exact opposite. She'd broken with the church, and her parents had broken with her because of it. Good riddance.

Thursday evenings had become the high point of her week, long before she met Don. She'd tried to tell him – well, in general terms -- but he could not get his head around it. Meditation? Spiritual uplifting? She'd given up. Aerobics? If that was as close as he could get, well, let it be. Jane had not known many men. Unbeknown to her, her mother accompanied her on all her dates – inside her head. 'The Movement' was Jane's secret. One evening a week, she left the real world, entered the world of the spirit, replenished her batteries. The rest of the time she was her mother's daughter.

And this person it was who, having decided she could not refuse an invitation from her boss, knocked on the door of Pat and Rick's house, that Tuesday evening, at 7.

Pat greeted her warmly.

"So glad you could come," she said. She wore a long, white gown that went all the way to the floor. Jane felt immediately uneasy. She wore the pink dress, tightly drawn at the top.

"I couldn't catch you, at the office, so I'm afraid I have no idea..."

"No problem, Jane. Come on in."

They entered the drawing room, the one with the two sofas.

"Would you like a drink?" Pat asked.

"No thank you," Jane said. "I'm driving."

"Maybe some Evian?"

"Yes! That would be fine...er..."

She looked around.

"Is it only me?" she asked, innocently.

"Yes, that's right," Pat said.

They sat at opposite ends of the sofa. Jane sipped her Evian, Pat her favorite martini.

"I'm sure you're wondering," Pat said.

"Yes, Pat. I am."

"Well, first off, this is strictly private, Jane. Nothing to do with the office. I hope you can leave this behind you, as I do. One has to, you know."

"Yes! I suppose so," Jane said, her confusion increasing.

"You remember our dinner party," Pat was saying.

"Er...Yes!"

"Well, about that. I have a confession to make. We – that's Rick and I – had an ulterior motive."

Pat gave Jane a look: one might say a 'significant' look.

"I don't understand," Jane said, understanding nothing.

"I'll be direct, I think that's best. Don't you?"

"I suppose so."

"Ok. Well, Rick and I are looking for a couple with whom we can... er ... do things."

"What things?"

"Jane! What things! Things men and women do."

"You mean ..... sex things?" Jane's face showed horror.

"Yes! That's right. Sex is fun, don't you think. It's a gift. Why not explore its horizons?"

"But....but....?"

"But what?"

Jane collected herself.

"Pat, this is improper. You're my boss. It's not right of you to.....even if I would think about such things."

"Jane, this is not the office. I'm not your boss now. I'm your friend – acquaintance, if that makes you less uncomfortable."

"You're my boss," Jane said, stone-faced.

Pat eyed Jane over her martini glass.

"Nothing that happens here will affect our professional relationship, Jane. I promise you that. You can walk out the door any time you like. There'll be no consequences at all..... in the office."

Jane was about to take Pat on her word, up and leave, when she caught something in her tone.

"You did mean 'no consequences'?" Jane said carefully.

"In the office."

"And ..er.. not in the office?"

"Well that's up to you, Jane. We invited you and Don thinking, well, maybe. You'll recall the conversation was rather risqué."

Jane did.

"That was deliberate, and on the basis of this we concluded, well, not."

"Indeed, not!" Jane said, emphatically.

"However, we were at that time not in possession of certain ..er.. facts."

"What facts?" Jane said, crossly.

"Jane, please. Don't play the innocent."

"I'm not playing the innocent. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about certain of your ..er.. 'activities'."

Jane's face suddenly matched the color of her dress.

"I have no idea what you're talking about?" she said, guardedly.

"Come, Jane. Think about it," Pat said, airily. "And don't think we were spying on you. Not at all. It was pure accident. As I told you, Rick and I are beginning to explore group sex. We visit certain .. ah.. websites."

Pat paused. It was plain from Jane's reaction that she did not know.

"Jane, perhaps you don't realize that your 'activities' are filmed and put out on the web. It's a paysite, so I presume someone is making a pile of money out if it."

Sudden horror. It could not be. Preposterous.

"You may be my boss, Pat," Jane said, standing, "but you have no right to delve into my private affairs. I'd like to leave now."

"Certainly. You are free to leave whenever you want. Are you sure you wouldn't like to take a look, first, at the DVD? We downloaded the file and cut a DVD. Wasn't cheap, but we thought you ought to know."

Jane paused.

"If not, perhaps Don should know?"

Jane sat down hurriedly.

.....Pat and Rick had almost come to blows over this scenario.

"Look, you can see she's enjoying herself," Pat had said. "Royally!"

"It's blackmail nevertheless," Rick had responded, heatedly.

"Fuck that. Don was fantastic. He's a natural. Jane is so buttoned up – I'll bet that's how she is with him. Remember what you said? 'Wonder if she screws him!' "

"That's between the two of them," Rick had said emphatically. "It's not our business to intervene."

"We already did," Pat shouted. "Don't you understand? We opened the can, with Don. It won't close. He'll never be content with what prim little Jane is giving him. No more than you were, or I was when we were like that, uptight, closed off. We've blocked that for Don. If we do nothing, their relationship is doomed."

"Well that's up to him," Rick had muttered. "Ask me, 'that' was blocked off for him already. No guy can be that good first time. You can't open a can that's already open. That relationship was doomed anyway."

"Oh sure. Escape your responsibility. Just like a fucking male!"

"What fucking responsibility? I am not my brother's keeper."

"It's not only your brother, it's my sister. A woman who does that, pretends to herself it's something it isn't, then falls back into the mould of a prim schoolgirl the rest of the time, that's one sick chick. She needs our help to see this for what it is. Quite aside from the whole damn thing going out on the web. I'm sure she doesn't know. She's being used, Rick, can't you see that?"

Rick had fallen silent.

"Does nothing make your blood boil, you...you?"

Fortunately, Pat restrained herself from adding the 'goddamn wimp' that was on her tongue.

They'd come to an uneasy truce. Pat was adamant. If necessary, the threat would be implied.

"But not carried out. Not! Ya got that? Not!"

"Ok."

It would be between Pat and Jane. The threat would be implied, if necessary. But if Jane did not bite, it would not be carried out......

Jane was thinking furiously. On the web? Could it be possible? 'The Movement' was strictly secret. Sister Solvang, The Taipan? So uplifting, divine. Was it credible that they were – gulp – running a scam?

"What website?" she said, at length, hoarsely.

"You don't want to know, Jane. You really don't."

"Were they – trying to attract ..er.. membership?"

"No! Not on that site, at least. Maybe on others."

"So you are telling me," Jane said, choosing her words carefully, 'that 'The Movement' is a scam?"

"Movement? I know nothing about a 'Movement'. That's not how it's packaged."

"So how is it packaged?"

Pat shook her head.

"You really don't want to know, Jane. Trust me."

Silence.

"What do you want of me? Just to tell me this?"

"Partly. We thought, also – well, I thought, to be honest – we could have a bit of fun tonight. Right here. Like – well-- but just the three of us. Look, I'm already dressed for the part."

Pat twirled around, revealing bare feet under the long gown.

Pause.

Jane fought to overcome her sense of revulsion.

"And if I say No!?" she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Pat remained silent.

Jane said,

"I want to see the video."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"The one we ripped .... "

"Yes?"

"Well, there's a group session, then a private session. You had a leading role....'

Jane lost it then.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Play the fucking video," she screamed. "I want to see the fucking video!"

She shocked herself. Jane had never before used the word 'fuck'.

"Fucking brilliant," Rick said, sarcastically. He was naked save for a mask around the eyes. His penis was fully erect.

"I'll make it up to you," Pat said, ruefully, allowing the gown to slip from her shoulders.

"You sho' will!"

Pat had sat Jane down in the tv room, placed a large bottle of Evian water and a glass on a side table, hit 'play' on the remote, then withdrawn.

The DVD player whirred. Rick had edited out the title. Ten young women, in two ranks of five, stood, heads down, arms at their sides. They were dressed in white gowns, all the way to the ground......

Jane forced herself to watch, right to the very end.

Up in the bedroom, Rick exacted his revenge with gusto. Hey, sometimes things don't work out the way you expect. You make the best of it, possibly even better! Rick was charged up like a randy bull on heat. Pat was not complaining.

They were so into it they did not hear the front door slam.

Chapter 6: Jane.

When Jane ran out of Pat's house, slamming the door behind her, she had no idea what she was going to do. What was in her mind? 'Upset' does not come close. Anger, certainly. Confusion, even more so. Revulsion, too.

She ran down the path, worked the remote and sat in her car, where the tears began to flow: grief, betrayal on the one hand, naivety, stupidity on the other.

The video was unequivocal. It had been thoroughly edited. The hours of meditation, the monotone voice of Sister Solvang, intoning the ancient texts of the prophets, whose meaning all knew, even though the language was strange, the evocation of the spirits – of these things there was no sign. Professionally filmed, the entire 'Session' plus its aftermath was condensed into one hour of pure porn -- with lead 'actress' herself! They'd even conjured up a name for her – 'Scheherazade', from the 'Thousand and one Nights'.

The first porn movie Jane had ever seen – and she had the starring role. How could you get your head around that? How could you be so insane not to realize it was happening?

She threw the DVD she'd managed to coax out of the machine onto the passenger seat in disgust.

Of course, they'd been very clever. The ritual: the gowns, the masks, the incense, the ethereal music, the chants – all with one purpose. To lure the participants into a trance, a state of mind where participation in acts of raw sex was not this, but something pure, removed from the real world, heavenly, the freeing of the spirit, the expression of 'divine fulfillment'.

She dried her tears and drove, anywhere. Of course, she was very far from coming to terms with it. Seeing is believing, but when one belief so sharply contradicts another, it takes a while to switch off past assumptions, to accept a betrayal of trust so monstrous, so brazen, so incongruous.

She could not go home. Don would not be there. She could sneak into bed, pretend nothing had happened. But the demons would follow her. She was not ready. She drove, wherever, perhaps subconsciously to Redondo Beach. It was dark, the moon was full. The sea was far away.

On impulse she exited her vehicle, shed her shoes and walked on the beach towards the water. Her rational mind knew that a lone woman walking the beach at night was prey, for whomsoever. But this mattered not. She walked anyway, all the way to the water's edge. She waded into the shallows. The water was warm still, from the heat of the day. Maybe it could cleanse her – from the filth...?

In three swift movements she divested herself of dress, demi-bra and panties. Naked, she waded into the wavelets, which shimmered in the pale light of the moon. She lowered her head, dived in and swam out to sea, where the water was cold.

It was touch and go. A rip-tide, and Jane would have been history. As it was, her survival instinct prevailed. She emerged from the shallows, shivering in the chill night air, dried herself as best she could with her panties, rubbed her hair furiously with the demi-bra, discarded both and struggled into her dress. Her body was cleansed. Her mind was not.