Me, You, My Wife, and Yours Pt. 06

Helen had brought a laundry bag full of crap and had thrown it in the back seat.

She began, feverishly, readying herself in the car. Twisting around and pulling items out of the bag, she dressed into the stunning and slutty white lingerie ensemble she had worn earlier.

Seeing how quickly she put on panties, fishnets, high heels, a corset, gauntlets and a choker, all within three minutes and while sitting in a car, made me wonder why it always took her so long to get dressed standing up. Then, using a tiny visor mirror and while driving in a car, she applied perfect eyeliner to both eyes with two single strokes of the applicator.

The most attractive feature of her whole slutty ensemble had to be how the skimpy push-up bra on that tight corset made her already impressive tits bulge up and stick out. They were barely covered, with the pink crescents of both her areolas peaking out over the top. Her already gorgeous tits looked perky, massive and glorious.

As she applied pink glossy lipstick to her lips, I couldn't help finding her frantic efforts to get dolled up a bit odd.

"Babe," I said, as she smeared lipstick on her cheeks for blush and rubbed it in, "Why do you care how you look?"

Helen shot a quick glance at me and shrugged. "There's going to be forty guys there, Harry. I don't want to look like a skank."

She took another hasty pull from her Peppermint Schnapps, swallowed and applied more lipstick to her cheeks.

I scoffed and chuckled. "You're going to be sucking their dicks. I don't think they'll care."

"Guys always care. Besides, you'll be there... and this is your fantasy, right?" She looked sidelong at me. "Your 'Helen as a filthy whore' fantasy? (see 'Wife to Sex Slave' by Hofeeder on literotica.com) Where you fuck me in the ass after I get a belly full of cum? I'm doing this for Janet because I have to." She turned her head, and looked directly at me as she closed the visor. "But I'm really doing this for you, ain't I?"

She looked at me with an excited smile growing bigger on her face. "Ain't I, Harry?" she repeated.

I nodded.

Speaking lower, Helen said, "I never dreamed we could EVER make that sick fantasy of yours actually happen. Did you? Now there are forty fucking men waiting for me to suck their dicks? This is truly insane, Harry. I am about to make your wildest fantasy come true... and honestly... that... that really... REALLY... fucking turns me on. It actually makes me WANT to do this."

I smiled and my heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you, Baby," I said, "You are so amazing, and so beautiful, and I feel so... so fucking loved by you right now." I took a deep breath and let it out. "You know, I was wrong. Helen doesn't ONLY love Helen. Helen loves Harry, too."

I thought saying that would please her and make her smile even more. Instead, her excited smile faded into a lopsided, somber smirk. She shook her head, took in a long breath and let it out in a wistful sigh. "You still... don't get it."

"How so?"

She scooted over on the bench seat of our station wagon, and pulled my arm over her shoulders as she sidled up to me. She took a long pull from her Schnapps, and gulped it down.

"If Helen loved Helen... even just a little bit... she would never agree to sucking off forty strange men."

Using four fingers to gently and slightly shift my face toward hers as I watched the road, she put her Peppermint flavored lips to mine.

It was only our lips pressing together, but it was warm, loving and sensual.

After our lips parted, Helen dropped her head heavily onto my shoulder and let out another sigh. "No, Harry," she said, her voice low, strained and nearly breaking. "Helen used to only love Helen... now Helen fucking hates Helen."

"You hate yourself?" I said, concerned at her melancholy tone. She seemed on the verge of tears. I squeezed her tighter with my arm. "But why, Babe? Why?"

Helen whispered, "For everything... for everything I did to you... for every single time... I hurt you."

I couldn't argue with that. Helen had fucked up just about as much as a dirty cheater can fuck up.

I wanted to tell her everything was forgiven and everything would be okay, but it wasn't and it wouldn't.

Still, the only thing I could do was to completely and totally forgive her, to somehow get her to stop hating herself and punishing herself for everything she had done.

I didn't want to at the time. I was still angry at her, and I wanted to see her debase herself, but I should have.

I should have slammed on the brakes, both metaphorically and physically, proclaimed to Helen that her every single transgression was completely and totally forgiven, turned that fucking car around and drove both our stupid asses back home.

I could have done that right there and right then. I could have put a stop to the madness that was just about to happen that night right there, in that car, and right then, at that very moment in our lives, but I didn't.

Like the stupid, bone-headed moron that I am, I fucking didn't.

Helen cleared her throat, and smiled at me. She said, "Well, anyway, I saw the camcorder and tripod cases in the back seat while I was getting ready. You must be so excited."

I nodded, not able to contain a giddy smile. "Absolutely."

Turning even more toward me, she grabbed my cock through my pants and squeezed. She giggled. "I knew it. I knew you would be, you dirty, dirty boy. Are you going to enjoy filming me sucking off all those random cocks... and drinking down all those nasty, disgusting loads?"

"Fuck yeah," I said, my cock responding to her dirty talk just as much as her hand, which repeatedly squeezed and released the growing bulge in my jeans.

"I am not...," she said, speaking in her low pitched, seductive voice, as she squeezed my cock every time she paused, "Going to let Janet... swallow a single load... I am going to drink every drop of cum.... and drain every set of balls at that party... completely fucking dry."

Helen lifted her lips to my ear and whispered, "When my tummy is full of cum, are you going fuck me hard in my ass?"

My cock throbbed as erect as it could possibly be while constricted by pants. "Oh my God, yes!"

Helen giggled. She pulled away and gulped her Schnapps, draining the bottle dry.

Tossing the empty over her shoulder into the back seat, she said, "I'm going to need a lot more Schnapps, Harry." She giggled again. "Be a good hubby and grab me a big bottle at the bar if you can. Oh, and make sure you get Janet a big Black Russian. She's going to need it, too."

"I will."

Helen lit a Newport and we shared it.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the V.F.W., I hit the brakes. It was so packed with cars and full of groups of people milling about and walking into the bar that it amazed me.

"Holy shit," I exclaimed, "What a fiesta!"

Helen roared laughing, harder than I had ever seen her laugh. She slapped my thigh, and bent forward, shedding tears as she continued to convulse in fits of laughter.

Confused, but wearing a huge contagious smile, I asked, "What is so goddamned funny?"

Hardly able to get the word out between her laughing spasms, she shouted, "Fiesta!" And laughed even harder.

I chuckled, shook my head and crept through the busy parking lot, looking for a place to park. Helen's laughter trailed off, and she wiped tears off her face with my terry cloth bathrobe before pulling it on over her slutty ensemble.

Parking in a far corner of the dirt and gravel parking lot, we got out of the car.

I grabbed the camera and tripod out of the back seat by their straps and slung them over my shoulder. Helen grabbed her laundry bag full of shit out of the opposite door, met me at back of the car and handed it to me, as well.

"Why do we still need this?" I asked, shaking the bag.

"More clothes for Janet and I, masks for all of us to hide our identities and a set of your scrubs from work."

We headed for the building.

Despite the big load I carried, I helped Helen walk, holding her arm, as she stepped carefully over the rough terrain in her white, five-inch high-heeled shoes.

"Masks, eh?" I said, impressed with her thinking. "Good idea, but where the hell did you get masks?"

"Leftover from last Halloween. I picked up a dozen of them for your sister's party, just in case some people came without costumes, but I forgot them in our bathroom... thank God. They've been in there under the sink ever since. So I grabbed the whole bag."

"Good idea. What kind of masks, like the medieval spooky ones or the kind for little kids, like Casper?"

"Like the Lone Ranger kind," she said, "But different colors, white, black, red, and yellow, I think."

I chuckled. "That's absolutely perfect. You're a genius... but why did you bring a set of my scrubs?"

Helen smiled, and raised her eyebrows. "You don't think I'm putting forty cocks in my mouth that haven't been checked for sores, rashes and warts by a medical professional, do you?"

"Oh, shit!" I said, letting out a disgusted groan. "Really? You want me to check their cocks?"

She cackled loudly and said, "What the hell are you complaining about? All you have to do is check them. I have to suck them."

I shrugged. "You know I'm a bit homophobic... and that's kind of... awkward."

"Oh, don't be a baby. I have surgical gloves, a flashlight and even a surgical mask in there. Just be professional. They'll think you really are a doctor. It will be fun."

"Fun?" I said, scoffing.

"Just do it for me... and for Janet."

I nodded. "Okay," I said, really proud of how smart and efficient my wife was being. "You thought of fucking everything, Helen. Have I ever told you how amazing you are?"

"Once or twice, but not often enough."

I chuckled.

Looking around at all the cars, Helen said, "What is going on here? Why is it so busy? Is there a band playing?"

I shook my head. "No," I said, "At least there wasn't an hour ago. It was dead. Maybe they have a band now, upstairs in the bar. The bachelor party is downstairs, a small private party, only those forty guys."

"I'm in a bathrobe and dressed like a total slut. Let's just hurry through all the people in there and get downstairs."

I guided Helen through the front door, and stopped, looking all around and at the bar.

The same couple dozen old folks sat around the bar with just a few extra younger guys, maybe a dozen or so, standing in a line at either end, waiting for drinks.

"It's all dudes in here, Harry... and they're all gawking at me. Let's go. It's creeping me out."

She was right. There were a few older ladies sitting at the bar, but everyone else was male, and most of their eyes were on my wife. She pulled my bathrobe tighter around her.

"Yeah," I said, "It's a sausage fiesta," trying to lighten her mood with a laugh.

She didn't even blink. "Let's just get to the party."

Still looking around, trying to figure out where the fuck everyone from all those cars in the lot had gone, I guided Helen toward the wide staircase.

There were two big goons standing there, guarding a red velvet rope that now blocked the stairs. As we approached, the bigger one on the right said, "Fifty dollars cover, folks. Each." He looked and sounded like Lurch from the Adams Family. He had black hair, but his head was squarish and he had to be close to seven feet tall.

I said, "No. You don't understand. I'm here for Ronnie's bachelor party, and this is my wife. Franky's expecting both of us."

"That's right," Lurch said, nodding and looking annoyed. "And for both of you to get in you'll pay a C note. Now either pay me, or get the f--"

Suddenly, the other goon, a long-haired ginger giant who looked like a viking, pointed at Helen and cried out, "Shit! That's her! That's her!"

Lurch looked over at the viking and said, "Who?"

"That's Marilyn Chambers, you dummy! Franky said her and Tom Cruise were coming to - holy shit! It's him - Tom fucking Cruise!" The viking laughed and stepped forward, holding his hand out to me.

Trying to process what I had just heard, I automatically just shook it. Franky had said what?

"I didn't believe Franky when he called me in to work the door, but you and Marilyn Chambers really are here. The slimy fucker really came through. I loved you in Rain Man, Mr. Cruise! Loved you!" His huge hand was shaking the hell out of mine. "Hey, I didn't know you got married to Marilyn Chambers! That is wicked cool, man." He looked at Helen, nodded and said, "Hello, Miss Chambers... or is it Mrs. Cruise now? Such a pleasure to meet you both." He looked back at me. "This is wicked cool, man! Wicked cool!"

"Thank you," I said. "Thank you. Now can we go in?"

"Absolutely," the viking said, releasing my hand.

Lurch unhitched the rope and pulled it aside.

As we hesitantly passed between them, the viking said, "Can't believe you're letting her blow so many dudes, though.... but I guess that orgy shit's normal in Hollywood, right?"

Both Helen and I froze at the top of the staircase. The small area of the floor we could see at the bottom of the stairs was packed with men.

Suddenly, Franky's voice blasted out loudly over the PA from downstairs. "Thank you. Thank you all for coming last minute to my big brother's bachelor party. Boy! Word sure travels fast in this little town." Then he shouted, "Is everybody ready to get their fucking dicks sucked!" Franky cackled obnoxiously as what was obviously a huge crowd roared in response.

I swear a hot breeze from the crowd's outburst blasted up the stairs and blew our hair back.

Helen's face turned white. Her mouth and eyes shot open as wide as they could open and she gasped so loudly I heard it above the crowd noise. Then, in a high-pitched squeaky voice, broken up by sheer terror, she shouted, "Fu-HUCK THIS!"

Spinning round, she clip-clopped frantically toward the exit. My terry cloth robe fell open in front from her dramatic arm swings, but she didn't even seem to notice.

I ran after her, rushed by, getting in front, and pushed the door open for her. "Yeah," I said, breathing heavily from the exertion of sprinting while carrying fifty or sixty pounds, "Let's get the fuck... out of here! I have no idea... where all those people... came from! I swear to God, Babe."

She clip-clopped past me, about to turn and go through the door. Suddenly, she jerked to a halt, a look of complete horror on her face. "Oh my God," she cried, and then she shrieked, "Janet!"

Spinning and running in her high-heels faster than I had ever seen anyone run in heels before, Helen passed between the goons and disappeared down the wide staircase before I could even let go of the door.

"Helen! Wait!" I yelled, running after her as fast as I could while lugging all our stuff.

Jogging between the goons, already winded, Lurch asked, "Who the fuck is Helen?"

"That's obviously her real name, Moron," the viking answered. "All them porn names are fake... like Dick Rambone. Did you think that one was real, too?"

"Marilyn Chambers sounds real, though."

As I ran down the stairs trying to catch up, I caught just a glimpse of her sprinting through some very surprised looking men at the bottom of the stairs. My terry cloth robe opened up. It flowed and flapped out behind her like a cape as she disappeared into the crowd.

The banquet hall erupted into loud cheers, applause, hoots, hollers and whistles, obviously in response to seeing a woman running into the hall dressed like a super whore.

The sound of their reaction to my half naked wife's sudden appearance grew until it rocked the whole place. As I hit the bottom of the stairs, I had never heard anything that loud in my life.

Franky's voice boomed out from the P.A. system. "Look everyone!" he shouted, "It's her! It's Marilyn Chambers! Put the spotlight on her, Jack! She's right there in the middle of the room."

A spotlight operator, set up high over my right shoulder on some staging, moved the spotlight off Franky, who was on stage, down into the crowd, searching around.

It landed on Helen.

Franky's voice boomed out. "There!" Franky shouted. "Give her room, everybody. Give the lady some room."

The crowd pulled away from her, leaving Helen exposed and alone in the spotlight, her skimpy, white ensemble glowing brightly in the light and her spectacular breasts completely bare and fully exposed, bursting over the top of her corset.

The crowd roared so loud it shook the hall.

Helen had run right into the middle of them, and was now spinning around, looking frantic and totally unaware that she was showing off her amazing naked breasts to the entire crowd of now wildly screaming men.

My terry cloth robe she'd been wearing had mysteriously vanished and her already bulging and squeezed-up breasts must have popped right out of the tight corset as she ran. The crowd screamed, clapped, cheered, jumped, hooted, stomped and whistled their approval.

"Ooooh!" Franky's voice shouted in excitement over the PA, "Look at Marilyn's tits! What great fucking tits!"

The crowd went wild, roaring even louder.

Helen stopped spinning, froze, and looked down at her naked breasts. She quickly crossed her arms to cover them and crouched down in exasperation, as if trying to shrink into the floor.

I spotted my robe in some asshole's hand who was just ahead of me, waving it like a prize over his head. As I passed him, I snatched it from his grasp never even slowing down. Running onward to rescue my wife from the middle of that crazed mob, almost drowned out by the din, I heard Helen's hysterical voice shriek out, "Janet!"

There had to be five or six hundred motherfuckers in that basement, and I was ready to crease the foreheads of every last one if they hurt a single hair on my wife's head.

I crashed through the crowd like a bull through a cornfield, bulldozing at least six guys as I cleared a path to Helen. I broke into the space they had cleared so they could gawk at my semi-naked, crouching and terrified wife.

Helen spotted me coming, and as soon as I lifted the robe up, she jumped to her feet and dove into it.

The crowd booed and hissed, loudly jeering and complaining as I helped Helen hide her nakedness in the terry cloth robe.

Safely in the robe, I wrapped my arms protectively around her, as she desperately clung to me with her face buried in my chest. She was crying and shaking like a leaf.

"It's Tom Cruise everybody!" Franky's voice announced. "Let's give Tom a big hand for saving Marilyn Chambers and her big beautiful tits from all you filthy animals!"

This made them laugh and actually calmed the crowd. The wild catcalls and jeers died down. It was replaced by a spattering of applause that grew into a loud, and much more conventional ovation.

"Are you okay, Baby?" I said, squeezing Helen tight.

"Oh thank you, Harry! Thank you so much. Yes! Yes, I'm okay, but we have to find Janet. I don't know where--"

"Shhh! It's okay. I know where she is," I said, repeatedly kissing Helen on the head and squeezing her. "Let's go."

I started walking and some angry looking dude tried to block us. I swung and hit him aside so hard with the laundry bag that he stumbled sidelong and fell on his ass.

"Make a path for Tom and Marilyn, folks," Franky yelled. "They're headed for the kitchen..."

I headed for the door to the kitchen, as the crowd parted for us to pass, and their loud applause began to subside.

Franky' s voice shouted, "Or should I call it the 'Tug and Chug Room'?"

The crowd roared again, louder than ever, and the unruly mob was instantly back.

Franky cackled and said, "Marilyn and a bunch of other hot and horny sluts have agreed to blow you ALL and drink all your fucking loads tonight, guys!" The crowd cheered and Franky shouted. "Give ALL those cum guzzling whores a goddamned round of applause!"