Me, You, My Wife, and Yours Pt. 05

As Brad finished depositing his load deep into my wife's pussy, Helen continued gyrating her hips in circles.

Brad held her gorgeous tits in his hands, and Helen held his large chest muscles in hers.

She pressed her vagina down into him hard, gritting her teeth and snarling with the effort. Tossing her head back, Helen's eyelids drooped. Still out of breath from her orgasm, she kept crying out, "Ooooh yeeeeah.... Oooooh yeeeeah..." over and over again.

It looked and sounded so strange. I had never seen her react that way before and had to turn my head away. It was too hard to watch Helen getting that much pleasure from another guy's cock, even if it was Brad's, who I loved like a brother.

Janet was sitting next to me on the couch. I had been so dialed in on watching Brad and Helen fuck for the first time, I hadn't even noticed she had sat there. Her eyes were welling with tears and transfixed on the sight of our spouses basking in their post-orgasmic rapture.

"Fuck!" I whispered, "I can't even look at this."

Janet turned her head like a robot and looked at me. Without blinking, in a very low voice only I could hear, she said, "That's because they're making love, Harry. Just look at them." She turned her head back to look at Brad and Helen. A single tear crept down Janet's cheek, but her expression remained as cold as stone. "We fucked... but they made love." She nodded her head, not taking her eyes off Brad and Helen. She said, "You started this, Harry." Janet sighed, put her hand on my thigh and squeezed. "It's not your fault, really. You're just a stupid ass." She patted my leg with her hand. "Just a stupid ass... but, you know..." She sniffled and shook her head. "I don't think I will ever forgive you."

Brad and Helen, still slowly fucking, were holding each other close and kissing.

Then, as if waking from a trance, Helen pulled her lips off Brad's and looked around. She spotted Janet and I sitting on the couch and she smiled at us.

"Whew!" she said, blowing out a breath and quickly sitting up straight, arching her back and whipping her thick wavy mop of long brown hair to the small of her back with a backward thrust of her head. She looked at us beaming, Brad's cock still inside her.

"Did you two enjoy the show? That orgasm made my eyes cross!" Pouting her full lips, closing her eyes and gyrating her hips in a slow circle, she let out a long, loud, "Mmmmmmmmmm."

And then, gritting her teeth and snarling, she pumped her hips into Brad one last time, and turned her head to smile at us again. She said, "Yeah, I don't think I've cum that hard in like... oh, I don't know..." she shrugged, letting out a chortling laugh, "In like ten fucking years?"

I had only known Helen for five.

Suddenly, her eyes widening at me, she let out a gasp and put a hand up to cover her mouth. Wincing and grimacing, she said, "Oops! Sorry, Harry." Then she shrugged and added, "Although, I guess that answers the question you asked me last night. Brad can, in fact, make me cum harder than you can." She cackled and slapped his chest.

I almost gasped. Her harsh words, spoken so flippantly, devastated me.

She smiled her movie star smile, seemingly oblivious to either Janet's tears or my stunned face.

Brad looked over at us, too, his face turning red. I recognized that look on him. It was a look of embarrassment and concern. He had obviously noticed Janet's tears and the anguished expression on my face.

Helen still hadn't.

"So what's next," Helen said with a shrug, still smiling, "Anal, right?"

My heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to scream at her. It felt just like catching her getting fucked in the ass by Tim the D.J. Yet, despite my pain, there was no fucking way I would ever let Helen see me that distraught over her again.

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out, I expelled all my anger and jealousy in that single exhale. I still felt sick to my stomach.

Forcing a huge smile, I nodded, looked at Brad and said, "Well, Brother... I guess it's time to fuck my wife extra hard in her ass. You want me to hold her down for you?"

Helen rolled off Brad onto the floor beside him. "Oh, no need for that," she said, giggling and spinning around on a knee to face him again. "I promise to stay still. Where do you want me, Brad," she asked. "Right here on the floor, or... I know. How about we do it up there on the chair where Janet squirted?"

"Actually," Brad said, "I think I need a minute here." He looked down, frowning, and we all looked over at his soft, shrunken and shriveled penis.

"Wow," Helen said, "I think my pussy won that death match!" She snickered loudly at her own joke. As her laughter trailed off, she shrugged. "So... I guess it's intermission?"

Helen stood up, looking a lot less drunk than she had a moment before. She said, "I prepared some snacks for us earlier. Is anyone hungry?"

The rest of us seemed in a daze. We just looked at her. I think we were all emotionally drained. Helen looked fine, even kind of upbeat, like she didn't have a care in the world.

I cleared my throat and said, "Yeah, sure. Let's all take a break... get something to eat." I stood up and turned off the video camera.

Helen spun away, stumbling and swaying as she walked quickly into the kitchen. She called out behind her as she went. "It's a lot of leftovers from the cookout, but I made some fresh pasta salad."

Brad sat up, covering his spent cock in both hands. He stared at his wife and said, "I'm so sorry, Janet. Are you... going to be okay?"

Janet nodded, took in a big breath and let it out. "I'll be fine, Brad. Now I know how you felt, though, and it sucks."

Brad nodded and stood up. He looked at me. "Are you okay, Harry?"

I smiled and nodded. "Let's go eat," I said.

"What she said about me making her... uh... you know..."

I forced a laugh that I'm fairly certain seemed genuine enough. Scoffing and waving a hand, I said, "Oh that? She's just drunk. She says stupid shit like that all the time when she's drunk." Helen had never said anything that hurtful to me before, drunk or sober, but I wasn't going to tell him that. "Don't sweat it. Now, let's go get some grub."

Janet stood up, and Brad said, "Shit yeah! I am fucking starving."

"Oh, you're always starving," Janet said, smiling.

Brad kissed his wife on the forehead and headed into the kitchen. I stepped over a cushion to follow, but Janet stopped me with a hand on my arm.

She watched as Brad disappeared into the next room. Then she leaned into me and whispered, "I don't want him cumming in her ass, too. He has to cum in mine."

This sounded insane to me. I shook my head, grimaced and said, "What? Why the fuck does that matter?"

Janet yanked my arm hard, and in an intense whisper, she said, "Because she already beat me with her mouth and pussy. I have to win him back with my ass."

I chuckled in disbelief. "That's crazy," I said, "This isn't a competition, Janet. I know you're feeling emotional and I get it, believe me, but this is not a--"

Janet yanked my arm harder, and whispered forcefully through clenched teeth, "Yes, it fucking is a competition, and if you're not in it to win it then you already fucking lost! Now step up your game! Win your fucking wife back with that big cock of yours, and I'll do my best to win Brad back. If there's one thing I know I'm better at than Helen it's anal."

I shook my head and gave her a doubtful smirk. "Not sure that's true. Maybe if she were sober..."

"Oh, fuck you, Harry!" Janet flung my arm away and stomped into the kitchen, leaving me standing there a little stunned.

What the hell had I started?

As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I saw my wife quickly push away from Brad, looking guilty as hell.

Helen, a little too loudly and quickly, announced, "There's plenty of food, guys. You all just help yourselves." She began uncovering plates she had just taken out of the fridge. "Not sure what they usually serve at orgies," Helen said, snickering, "But I kept it light. Hope you like it."

Janet had been watching whatever my wife had been doing to her husband, and she looked furious.

I got a little pissed, too. I wasn't bothered so much by Helen showing Brad some affection, probably just giving him a hug. It was her sneaky attempt to hide it from me that really stuck in my craw.

And what was up with Helen making no attempt to hide that from Janet? Why was she flaunting her affections for Brad in front of Janet, but trying to hide them from me?

Maybe Janet was right and this had become a competition between the girls, after all, but I was too much of a stupid ass to pick up on it.

That seemed likely.

There was definitely no competition between Brad and I. The big dummy was stuffing his face with deviled eggs, completely oblivious to the soap opera playing out around him. I was truly grateful for that. Brad had no guile, and he certainly never conspired or schemed about anything. That's partly why I loved the guy so much.

Janet smiled a huge fake smile and announced, "Why don't I make us all a nice pot of coffee?"

"Oooh," Helen said, always up for coffee. "That sounds great."

I admired Janet's strategy. I had just told her I didn't think she could compete with Helen sexually unless she were sober, so my guess was that Janet was trying to level the playing field with caffeine.

'Well, played, Janet,' I thought, 'You go, girl.'

This whole new cat and mouse, spy verses spy, dimension to our foursome both terrified and intrigued me.

I decided to act as dumb as Brad and have a bite to eat. "Looks awesome, Honey. Great job." I walked over to her, gave her a squeeze and a peck on the cheek.

Sitting down next to Brad, I grabbed a cold chicken wing and took a big bite. "So, Brad buddy, how long before you get wind back in the sail?"

He scowled at me. With his mouth full of food, he said, "Gum again?"

"How long before Woody Woodpecker can peck?"

Brad's scowl deepened.

"How long before your dick gets hard?" I said, glancing for any reaction from the girls. Helen looked oblivious, nibbling on raw carrots and dip. Janet remained stone-faced, but seemed to get very still. She was obviously listening for his response.

Brad shrugged, stuffing a piece of party pizza in an already full mouth. "Gubble owwahj?" He said through his food.

"A couple hours?" I said, looking at the clock. "Jeez, it's almost nine-thirty. What the hell are we going to do for two hours?"

"I got a fun idea," Janet said.

'Uh-oh,' I thought, nonchalantly taking another bite of my wing.

"We should call Franky and cop some coke."

I almost laughed, but maintained my poker face. First caffeine and now cocaine, Janet was pulling out the big guns.

Helen grimaced and looked at Janet. "Cocaine? Why would you want to get Cocaine?"

"Oh lighten up, Prudence," Janet said, using an old nickname Helen hated. Apparently, in high school, Helen never drank or did drugs, so the kids used to call her Prudence. "We'll just do a few lines, that's all. I think it would be fun."

Brad said, "Franky's not home, Janet. He's at that bachelor party I was supposed to go to."

"Isn't that at the V.F.W.?" Janet said, "The one right down the end of the street?"

Brad shrugged. "Yeah, so what?"

"So why don't you just drive down the street and buy some blow from him," Janet said, walking over to Helen and putting a cup of instant coffee in front of her. The good stuff was still brewing.

Brad took another piece of party pizza out of the box, shrugged and took a bite. "I'm naked and I'm eating," he said.

"Well, I want some coke. Finish eating and get dressed. I'm sure Harry will take the ride with you, won't you, Harry?"

"Me? I'm naked and eating, too."

Janet folded her arms. "Let me put this another way, guys. If I don't get a few lines of nose candy to cheer me up then we are all done for the night."

Brad swallowed hard. He looked at me and said, "You up for a ride, Bro?"

I nodded and tossed my chicken bones on a plate.

"Before you go, Harry," Helen said, smiling, "I need to speak with you alone."

"Alone?" I said, frowning at her. "We all fucked in front of each other. I don't think we have anything left to hide."

"Oh, Harry," She said, standing up and walking toward the living room. "Just come in the other room with me for one minute."

I frowned and shook my head. Still upset by her harsh words, I didn't want to hear a goddamned thing Helen had to say. "It will have to wait until we get back."

"Please, Harry. It's very imp--"

I shouted, "It will have to wait!" cutting her off.

Helen turtled. She hated it when I yelled, but I really didn't give a damn.

Brad and I got dressed in the kitchen, putting on our discarded clothes, and I hung Janet's discarded coat on a hook. We left.

Making a coke run, especially just to give Janet a fighting chance at winning the ass fucking contest in her head, was not on my wish list of things to do on foursome night. Still, Brad and I needed a break from sex. We had both pumped huge loads into each other's wives and it does take some time to reload, especially after such extremely explosive orgasms.

Hell, Brad had two of them monster orgasms, thanks to my wife. I could almost see that all his energy had been sapped out of him by Helen. His eyelids drooped as he drove us in his pick-up to the V.F.W. post.

It convinced me that maybe a few lines of coke wasn't such a bad idea.

When he parked the truck, I said, "Want me to wait?"

"No, come on in. I'll introduce you and we'll grab a beer. Franky's a shitbag, but he's also kind of funny."

Brad worked as a carpenter, and this guy, Franky, was the son of a wealthy contractor, Brad's boss. I knew his father was rich and I had heard Franky was fat and that he dealt drugs, but that's all I knew about him.

We walked into the bar of the V.F.W. and it was full of an older crowd, maybe a couple dozen men and women, mostly over fifty. Brad turned and walked down a wide staircase, motioning for me to follow.

The basement was a huge banquet hall and there were about forty people down there, all men. A giant banner sign above the stage read; "Rest In Peace, Ronnie"

The stage at the far end of the hall was full of musical instruments without any band members in sight, but "Saturday Night Special" by Skynyrd was playing loudly through a PA system.

There were a couple of restrooms on the left wall, a closed bar that stretched the entire length of the far right wall and what looked like the entrance to a kitchen in the far corner on the right side of the stage.

The huge banquet hall itself was mostly empty.

The men were eating, drinking and laughing at several long banquet tables set up near the stage.

A short, fat Italian looking guy in his mid-thirties saw Brad as we approached, smiled, raised his hand and got up from his chair. His thick, black curly hair was cropped too short on the sides and not enough on top. I smirked in amusement.

The guy looked like a were-poodle.

Franky flaunted a thick, gold Figaro necklace on the outside of his white dress shirt and black tie, with a matching gold bracelet on his fat wrist. My Dad was a pawnbroker and those had to be worth at least three grand.

He wore a frumpy, black three piece suit and black dress shoes, but despite all that he still looked like a slob. "Hey, Bradley, you fucking made it, Dude!"

He strode quickly at Brad with his arms wide and they hugged.

"No, Franky," Brad said, breaking off the hug. "I'm sorry. I can't stay. I just wanted to grab a $40 baggy from you."

Franky looked truly disappointed. "That blows, Dude... but I guess it's just as well. The stripper is late, but the whore I hired cancelled last minute. Fucking cunt." He chuckled, shaking his head. "At least we'll get to see some titties, though, right?"

"You hired a whore?" I said, chuckling and shaking my head. Of course he did, frigging low-life.

Franky looked at me. "Who is this handsome guy?" he said, holding out his hand. I shook it.

"This is my friend, Harry," Brad said, "Harry, Franky. Franky, Harry."

"Oh, yeah," Franky said, not letting go of my hand. "You're his friend with that old barn. Nice to finally meet you, Dude"

I had asked Brad a few months back for a quote from Franky's father on either repairing or demolishing the giant, old barn on my property. They still hadn't come to look at it.

"Yeah you, too," I said, trying to let go of his hand.

He wouldn't let go.

Pointing at me with his other pudgy hand and peering closer at my face in amazement, he said, "The fuck, Dude. You look just like--"

"Don't say it!" Brad shouted, cutting Franky off and putting his hand out between us as if to block the words.

I inhaled and pushed the air out my nose, frowning, and instantly annoyed. This happened to me all the time, ever since the year after high school, when the asshole actor who looked just like me achieved superstar status.

Brad pulled his hand back. Smiling in relief, he said, "Harry hates it when people say that. Get's him in a pissy mood."

"Really? But he looks just like him," Franky said. "I mean his hair is longer and darker, and maybe he's a bit taller, but he looks just like Tom fucking Cruise. It's uncanny."

This time Brad winced.

I ripped my hand out of Frankie's grasp, and said, "Where the fuck did you hire a whore to work a bachelor party, asshole? Whore's-R-Us?"

Franky's eyes popped wide. Then he chuckled nervously and shook his head, looking a bit stunned. He started talking in a higher pitch and a lot faster "No. No, Dude. She's just an escort. I promised everyone here a free blowjob. Was going to pay the bitch four grand for forty BJ's, too. That's $100 per cock, and all rubber coated. I mean, shit, even I would do that for four G's." He chuckled again, but looked a little uncomfortable with his own joke. "I mean, I'm not gay or anything, but four G's is four G's, right? I mean... I mean that's more than generous for a whore. Right? Am I wrong? Yet the fucking cunt backed out on me... made me look like a loser." He looked nervously back and forth at Brad and I, clearing his throat.

I nodded, as an evil notion suddenly occurred to me. "What if I could get a beautiful woman here within the hour who would not only give them all head... she'll do it without any condoms, and she'll swallow all their cum?"

Both Brad's and Franky's mouths dropped open.

"How much is that worth to you, Franky?"

"You serious, Dude? She'll go bare back and chug the charlie... on forty dudes?"

"Jesus, Harry," Brad said. "You're not thinking...?"

I nodded, not taking my eyes off Franky, I answered Brad's question. "Yes, I am, Brad. I'm thinking Helen."

Brad said, "That is so fucked up, Harry. You can't be serious."

Franky said, "Shit! For that I'd pay you like... six grand?"

"Eight grand."

Franky scowled, shaking his head. "Six grand is way over my budget already. I can't do eight. What's this girl look like, anyway, old and fat? Probably an ugly old hosebag, right?"

"She's gorgeous," I said. "Looks just like Marilyn Chambers in her prime, only with a much hotter body." Glancing over at my still shocked looking friend, I said, "Tell him, Brad.?"

Brad set his jaw and shook his head. "No way. I don't want any fucking part of this."

I frowned and said, "Just trust me, then. She's absolutely gorgeous."

"Coke whore, then?"

"Nope. Housewife."

Really?" Franky said, licking his lips. "She's pretty, too? Looks something like Marilyn Chambers?"

"Not something like. Same face, but fuller lips and a better body. And not just pretty, either. She's smoking hot."

Franky swallowed hard. "Oh boy, I wish I could pay more. I really do, but I can only afford the six grand."

"Okay," I said, "Six grand and throw in two grand worth of coke."