Keeping Her Happy

Josh had felt his arousal flare, at the first touch of his trembling woodie to the welcoming warmth of Katie's labia, as she gently lowered her hips to engulf him. Dropping over his erection, centimetre by centimetre, she gradually enfolded him, welcoming his sceptre into her love tunnel, until, they both let out a satisfied sigh as her pubic bone touched down, cushioned by his curly forest. His legs quivered, as she settled, firmly pegged on his rigid pole; then, reaching up, he grabbed her upper arms, pulling her forward, squashing her breasts against his chest--as much to steady himself as to support her.

Around that very time, the three studs, coincidentally, shared the same thought: that being, that fucking in the immediate presence of the others was not only distracting, it was arousing, too. Seeing the others in the periphery, at the edge of their foci, the simple knowledge of what each was doing, was erotically stimulating, as was the imagining of what they couldn't see. And this compounded their physical arousal into even sharper focus! Before long they had each other glowing like erogenous, erotic beacons! And they'd only just begun!

Shuffling up to her back door, Cane couldn't hide his goofy grin. He figured, as he admired her puckered rose, knocking at that self-centering gate of her rear entrance, that he'd just won the jackpot. As he pushed past the elastic resistance of her anus, it gripped his shaft like an iron fist in a velvet glove. The smooth friction energized him, as he eased himself into her tight dirt-chute, and inched his way ever deeper.

Warren, on the other hand, was amazed at how Katie had immediately and completely, consumed his throbbing tool. He watched in disbelief, his steely weapon disappearing into her plunging face, and basked in the wet warmth of her mouth and throat. The expert caresses of her talented tongue were positively delightful. Katie was impressed, too. Initially, the new guy, Warren, seemed a little hesitant--seemed to be waiting to see what she would do; however slowly, he certainly got into it, building up amplitude, tickling her tonsils, yet, commendably, never overwhelming her measured fellatio, never letting it devolve into a face-fucking frenzy.

Gradually they established a workable rhythm. Although none of them had ever been part of a foursome before, they took to it like ducks to water. As much as Katie had become pretty proficient at sucking cock, and could usually perform deep-throat with no problem, sometimes a hitch in the rhythm--an unusually strong or deep thrust from under or behind, pushing her hard onto the stiffie filling her mouth--would cause her to gag, momentarily disrupting things. They always managed to take a moment to recover, then soldier on.

Willie, meanwhile, found he couldn't sixty-nine his darling wife without interfering with one or another of the active participants, so, he reluctantly resigned himself to mainly watching. Notwithstanding, he found he could reach in to fondle Katie's tits, from time to time--as a bit of a reprieve. Furthermore, she, occasionally, reached out to touch him with a hand or foot, in a surprisingly determined effort to maintain a physical connection with him. Katie found having three simultaneous partners to be marvelously arousing, while Willie found her deliberate touches to be soothing and reassuring.

As the tangled foursome got up to speed and stayed there for a while, all four of the players found themselves desperately holding off. No one wanted to be the first to cum. Eventually, in that regard, it was Katie who lost. The double-penetration of her bottom--two hard rods, rubbing and bumping and each probing deep in their separate cavities--combined with the oral assault--thumping repeatedly on the back of her throat before slipping down, past her gag reflex--fueled an excitement that soon grew out of control, until waves of arousal overcame her, crashing in flashes and flares, rebounding around her body, from her fundament to her cranium, her tits to her toes! The violent spasms wracking her orifices, soon triggered crises in all three of the boys, prompting them to cum in rapid succession!

Then, the hitherto active tableau collapsed into a heap of quivering protoplasm, at which Willie could only marvel, as they, so very gradually, regained their structural integrity, and untangled--emerging, once again, as four separate entities. Pretty much all anyone could say was, "Phew!" and, "Wow!" But it seemed that they all agreed, 'Airtight' was quite a success. Also, it became apparent, after taking a bit of a breather, that once they had Katie airtight, it just seemed quite natural to want to rotate around her--so that each of the boys experienced each position--which they went on to do. They rotated and switched their order for many hours, through a great many super-strong orgasms.

Katie thrilled to triple-penetration even more than double-penetration, hence, the next several sessions settled exclusively into just continuous airtight fucking. She was in heaven! Although, considered objectively, she just couldn't believe how incredibly slutty she was being. Indeed, she couldn't previously have imagined herself behaving that way in a million years.

Katie didn't understand; had she always been a slut? Perhaps her latent sluttiness had just been held dormant by her virginity. Maybe her vaguely remembered dreams of lascivious longing and unsatisfied desires were actually her true-self spoiling for release! And now...? Had it--her real inner-self--finally seized the opportunity to emerge--was her true nature coming out into the light, very much like a gay person's 'coming out of the closet'? "Or is my sudden slutty behavior just a spontaneous response to some benign suggestions or erotic fantasies? Does every woman have the potential to become, under the right circumstances, such a shameless hussy as this?"

Regardless of the underlying explanations, Katie thrilled to the sexuality, to the touch, to the stimuli and responses. She was becoming, she began to suspect, addicted to the excesses. If she were honest with herself, she actually craved the carnal bliss. It was as if she'd been given permission--carte-blanche--to simply enjoy herself. Furthermore, she couldn't believe how happy it made her--how happy Willie's support, and encouragement, and arrangements, and tolerance made her. Without his generosity she would never have known what she had been missing. Indeed, she couldn't believe just how happy and horny he was allowing her to be. It was such a novel experience--fucking multiple guys multiple times. It was fun. So much more than the alternative--whatever that was! She was having such a blast, such a release! Release and relief from pent-up frustrations she hadn't even known she'd had.

Delighted with the varied and continuing opportunities, and staying within the bounds of their 'therapy sessions', Katie had no worries about being promiscuous. Inside their walls, she could be anything she wanted. She could try on any hat: slut, tramp, whore, vamp, nympho--with impunity.

It became obvious, to Katie at least, that she experienced nearly as much arousal from the freedom she enjoyed as from the physical stimuli--for both contributed to her frequent periods of continuously rolling orgasms--and coming down from those extended sexual highs, she would beam, smiling at Willie with such guileless joy Willie had to know she really, really loved him. Still, in his quiet, dark moments, Willie wondered if he hadn't created a monster. It had all moved so far beyond simply providing Katie with experiences. And she sensed that,too; so, after the boys had left, she always tried to reassure him, making love to him, deliberately stimulating him with studied nipple-play, and gentle fondling of his sleeping genitalia. Willie loved the arousal, even if it was all just in his head--or at least his central nervous system. Physically, unfortunately, he still got nothing more than the very occasional chubby.

On the other hand, as soon as the boys left them alone, Katie, generally received focused attention from her loving husband. Of course, their 'therapeutic' activities did much to satisfy the animal lust, and certainly, whether practicing current exercises, learning new ones, or revisiting old ones, 'therapy' sessions were always wonderfully enjoyable--even for Willie. That being said, and as clichéd as it sounds, it was only sex; that's all. Great sex, but just sex; nothing more.

So, whenever they got the chance, Katie and Willie made love--really, really made love! She loved the way he took time to study her pussy, and inhale her aroma; she loved how he rubbed his cheeks in her bush, before swiping his tongue up full-length between her pussy-lips; she loved the way he reached up around her thighs to cup her breasts; and how he pinched and rolled and flicked her nipples; she loved how he poked and swirled her cunt and her clit with his tongue, in sync with his fingers at her tits; and she just loved the way he drew her arousal out infuriatingly, deliciously long, yet never failed to detonate her orgasm just when she thought she couldn't take any more!

Willie loved the way she triggered his arousal by sucking and tonguing one nipple while strumming the other with her fingers and gently fondling his comatose genitals with her free hand; he loved nestling his face in the warm valley between her breasts, or in the soft bush between her thighs; he loved how she tasted, and the way her nectar gathered and ran when he drew his tongue along her slit; he loved savouring her delicate scent, as he elicited tremors and jolts through her legs and her buttocks; and he really loved how she mewled and gasped, her whole body bucking as she was overtaken by climax!

The extra, cream-filled treats left by the boys on 'therapy' days were a bonus to be enjoyed by both Willie and Katie, each in their own way--for him, the time in her pussy, as well as the consumption; for her, not just the expunging, but the actual feeding creampies--often anal creampies--to her eager and willing hubby. A fact that accounted for a great many fabulous climaxes for Katie. Mind you, Willie had long delighted in--and did still--in giving his wife orgasms. It made them both very happy.

Earlier, they had all agreed, as triple-playing became more routine, that the need for a washcloth when changing positions from anal to elsewhere, interrupted their transitions. So, Katie, having given some thought to that, came up with a solution she figured they all could live with. Before subsequent sessions she took an enema--flushing her rectum and scrubbing her anus--thus, theoretically, eliminating the need for washcloths.

Sometime later, Cane announced he was going on vacation, and had to bow out for a while; however, the problem that presented was short-lived, as he took the liberty of introducing a potential substitute, a nice young guy named Richard. "Oh, no, not another Dick!" Willie muttered under his breath. Only Katie and Josh got the reference.

Puzzled, the young fellow added, "Actually, I go by Rich."

Willie laughed as he wiped his forehead. "Phewww! That's rich!"

In any case, from there on in, things progressed like a controlled snowball, and Katie's 'therapy' sessions were soon happening pretty much weekly--Friday nights or weekend afternoons. Players moved on and were replaced, as word spread, albeit as discreetly as possible, among friends of participants. And all of them--all the boys--were well-hung, but none freakishly so. As it proceeded, names seemed to become rather superfluous; they didn't seem to matter as multiple partners morphed smoothly into what were basically gangbangs--always chaperoned by Willie's watchful eye, delicate touch, and protective presence. While some days there might be only two 'cocks', and occasionally, as many as five, mostly there were three or four volunteer 'therapists'. At any given session, someone might propose a theme, such as, "How many loads can Katie take in an hour;" or, "How many climaxes can she achieve;" or, "How many loads can she swallow;" or, "How much cum can she take up her ass;" or, suggesting, as if it were a novel idea, "Let's make her airtight." However it was rationalized, Katie found the resulting 'therapy' to be marvelously satisfying. And so it continued.

Later on, down the road of time, a former participant in Katie's 'therapy', the best man for a friend's nuptials, was stymied trying to organize the stag--the 'exotic dancer' they'd arranged for backed out at the last moment, so, he sought out Katie's help. In amongst his pleading with her, she was floored when he mentioned the going rate for bachelor party strippers. Then, when he, later, indicated what the rates were for such illicit activities as might be expected at a stag, after it had officially ended, well, didn't that just give her pause.

Still, she initially objected. "You're talking gangbang? You want me to--what's the phrase?--pull a train?! Not bloody likely!" Yet, a subtly sparkling glow ignited between her legs at the very suggestion.

"You'll be in the drivers' seat, Kate. You only go as far as you want; but... well, let's face it, three or four guys three times each is like over ten times. I understand you've done that already. This will only be eight or nine guys."

After a brief discussion with Willie, who, despite multiple misgivings, allowed, "I'm okay with it, if you are. If it really interests you, go ahead."

"It intrigues me, really." So, Katie--titillated, curious, but wary--tentatively volunteered: "Only if Willie is there. He can run the bar." Curiously, the most awkward part for Katie ended up being putting on a semi-legitimate, exotic dance / stripper routine, and faking her way through the requisite lap-dances.

Once they got to the raunchy parts--the full-contact lap dances, the 'Russian' hands and 'Roman' fingers, the grope and grind--Katie began to feel more at home, or at least on more familiar ground. More crude and crass, perhaps, than what she was used to, Katie, at least, felt that the interactions were more genuine, more honest than the initial stripper routine that had been restrained by legal propriety. Hence, she welcomed the touch and grab, the poke and prod, and, before she knew it, she was fully engaging in down and dirty sex. Anonymous mouths nibbled and sucked; suddenly exposed and erect penises waved about, gleefully trying to lure contact.

A dog-pile, with Katie at the centre, the party became a miasma of handjobs and blowjobs (too coarse to be considered fellatio;) clumsy finger-fucking; amateurish pussy licking; brief attempts at sixty-nine; messy missionary; standing backdoor; hands and knees doggie-style; and, eventually, mouth and pussy double-penetration! Soon the constant barrage of stimulation had Katie's arousal rolling over her psyche like a relentless surf--wave upon wave of electric discharge, crackling in a charged field, filling the room. Her only possible response to the unremitting arousal was to succumb, tumbling along in continuous climaxes. Feeding off the excessive erotic energy in the venue, Katie rolled through repeated orgasms. Of course, she was hardly the only one suffering over-stimulation. The mass of young male excitement was constantly spurting jets of semen: into the air to splash on the floor or the furniture; into catching, dripping hands; into Katie's mouth and down her gullet; or into her cunt, to run down her thighs.

For Willie, participation in the orgy became awkward. Katie tried to hold onto tactile contact as long as possible, but met with limited success. Willie realized that he always seemed to be in the way; in fact, very near the beginning of the evening it became abundantly clear--if not immediately accepted--that maintaining physical contact for Willie and Katie would be impossible. Still, Katie tried to keep her dearest involved with her eyes. Throughout the melee Katie frequently sought out Willie's gaze and flashed him a warm, loving smile.

Willie watched, amazed--astounded at the antics of his dear Katie, and at how comfortable she appeared to be right in the middle of it all. He was also amazed at how incredibly erotic she was. He felt he could stand there and watch her forever. Sadly, to no avail regarding his own erection. Once in a while it would get chubby--but only barely--only briefly. A glimmer of erogenous energy faintly sparkled within his groin; a vague tremor whispered through the base of his penis, like an almost awakening creature. The transient suggestion of carnal arousal would flutter across his fundament, then be gone. The only indication of his arousal that persisted was the condition of his nipples; they stood up, hard, pointy little beacons, hyper-sensitive to the touch, radiating erotic energy, lighting up with actual physical arousal.

Meanwhile, the groom seemed to get all jazzed up, coming back to Katie for erotic attention, again and again. It was almost as if, with so little blood flowing to his brain, he lost all his personality, becoming an automaton, a soulless fucking machine. Katie was very glad to know Willie was there monitoring it all, and was not all that upset when he finally called, "Time, gentlemen, please."

As the clients--the young men--the boys, and they really seemed more like little boys than young men--looked for clothing and got dressed, Katie seemed to just appear in front of Willie. Standing there, naked, her hair a mess, cum, dry and drying, covering her body, she was stunning! She beamed--her beatific smile almost blinding. At that moment, Willie thought she had never looked so desirable, so sexy, so beautiful!

It was a quiet ride home that night. Katie was still vibrating; Willie feeling conflicted. Finally, Katie broke the silence. Broke it with what Willie figured was a sentence of dreaded foreboding. "You know that I love you," she whispered, stealing a glance his way, "don't you?" Willie could only nod. "Well--as I'm sure you can tell--these activities, this group sex stuff, the outrageously lascivious...what?...behaviours I participate in, acts I commit..., well, they turn me on something fierce! They never fail to light my fire--so much so that I crave them!" She swiveled in her seat just as he pulled into their driveway, and she went on in a stronger, more confident, more authoritative voice. "But understand this, William Halliday: I love you! The others are just playthings. You make love to me; they fuck me! And therein lies the difference. I could live without being fucked; I couldn't live without being loved." She reached over and laid her fingertips lightly over the back of his hand. "And I get all the love I need from you!" While still somewhat confused, Willie went to bed that night feeling sort of happy and relieved.

Sometime later, one of the rather exclusive group of acquaintances who had, at one time or another, been an active participant in Katie's therapy sessions, contacted Willie regarding a possible business opportunity. "I heard some vague rumours about a bachelor party Katie had attended, you know. Where she had provided--had been--the entertainment. So, I was just wondering if she would be willing to do it again. I figured I'd let you feel her out, if you think she might be interested." That evening Willie ran the idea past his wife, although he had no doubt what her response would be. And sure enough, "Well, sure," she said, hardly able to hide her excitement, "if it's all right with you--and if you would be there with me." Katie, this time, had some idea what 'entertaining' at a stag entailed. "If that's okay, tell him I accept, conditionally; you must be there. Suggest you can help at the bar, or something." In the week leading up to the event, Katie suffered through a growing nervous titillation. She couldn't believe it was happening again. She was apprehensive, worried that it wouldn't be as good as the earlier romp. Mostly, though, she was just excited, barely able to contain herself, like a kid waking up early Christmas morning.