My Reluctant Key Party Pt. 04

I stared out of my doorway at Gerry's black Mercedes. It was top of the line and fully loaded, but in my situation, it might as well have been a hearse. Every minute that passed, it seemed his slimy grin grew wider. Soon I'd be sitting next to him, riding to his house so he could have his way with me. Meanwhile, my husband, Rick would be banging Gerry's slut of a wife all over our house. I wanted nothing more than to call it off, but Rick was glued to Sandra. Their hands were everywhere, groping each other, giggling and whispering. The longer I stood there hesitating, the more it felt like I was cock-blocking my own husband.

Gerry walked into our kitchen to throw away his empty beer can. I looked at Rick, half hoping he could see the anxiety and fear in my eyes and decide to call it off. I knew we agreed to go through with it, but how could a man allow his wife to leave with a warthog like Gerry? He knew the way I felt about the man, yet all he did was stand there with a nervous smirk while Sandra's hand snaked under his T-shirt and massaged his chest.

Gerry came back with a fresh beer and turned it up for a swig. After a short belch, he wiped his mouth with his forearm and motioned for Sandra to come over to him. She untangled from Rick and walked over to give her husband a goodbye kiss. While still watching Sandra's ass, Rick walked over and stood in front of me.

"You okay?" he asked.

Great. So now he cares?

"I'm fine," I said, looking away.

If he wasn't so busy fantasizing about what he was going to be doing to Gerry's wife in a few minutes, he might have picked up on the tone in my voice and my body language. No such luck. My husband was lost in fuck-lust, and it wasn't for me.

He leaned in for a kiss. I barely parted my lips. Rick backed away awkwardly, but didn't ask me what was bothering me. He was actually pretending that he couldn't tell I didn't want to go through with it. The crime of it all was if he'd asked me if I wanted to call it off, I wouldn't have. I could tell that he really wanted to spend the night with Sandra and I'd already agreed to everything. Even if I couldn't bring myself to actually sleep with Gerry, I wouldn't have spoiled the night for Rick.

All I wanted was just the slightest acknowledgment that I was still his wife. The other husbands were at least smart enough to show their wives a little genuine affection before they sent them off to fuck another man. Rick seemed to only come over to offer his half-hearted goodbye out of obligation once Gerry had crowbarred Sandra out of his arms.

After one last beer-soaked kiss, Gerry presented his wife to my husband. "She's all yours buddy," he said, smacking Sandra's ass on her way to Rick. "Hope you can keep up."

"I'll ... I'll do my best," Rick said. He glanced toward me as Gerry's wife cozied up to him.

"It was a great party," Sandra said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "Hope it becomes a tradition."

"We'll see," I replied, doing my best not to roll my eyes.

Gerry hitched up his belt and snorted. "Well, I guess we'll be going." He shook Rick's hand and slapped him on the back. "Enjoy yourself, buddy."

Gerry grabbed my arm and guided me toward the door. I decided to give my husband a little payback. Instead of recoiling from Gerry, I slid my arm around his wide back and tucked my hand in his back pocket. He crooked his arm around my neck and I leaned in, resting my head on his shoulder. That wasn't flirty or sexy. That was a show of affection.

Gerry grinned and stroked my hair as he opened our front door. If any of our neighbors were still awake, they'd see me leaving in the arms of another man, while my husband stood in the doorway. It was a surefire gossip starter, but I didn't care how it looked. If Rick wanted his wife to be a slut, that's what he was going to see.

"Bye, honey," Rick said, as I walked around to the passenger side of Gerry's car.

I looked back and gave him a soft wave.

"Hey now," Gerry said, as he pressed the button to unlock the doors. "Be a good girl and blow him a kiss goodnight."

I played along and sent my husband an exaggerated mock kiss, holding my 'puckered lip' pose for a few extra seconds to rub it in. In that moment, I wanted him to think I would do whatever Gerry asked without hesitation. I wanted him to see his loving, faithful wife submitting to the will of another man. Served him right.

I opened the door of the sleek Mercedes and climbed inside, while my husband stood in our doorway with Sandra draped all over him. Gerry started the car. I waited for him to back out of our driveway so I could watch the look on Rick's face. Instead of putting the car in reverse, Gerry tuned the radio then reached for his belt.

He unbuckled and unzipped in a flash. What the hell? Was he really gonna pull out his cock in my driveway? I figured he must have been angling for a handjob on the way to his house. Might not be such a bad idea. If I could get him to blow his little load in the car, he might be done for the night and I wouldn't have to actually fuck him.

"You're mad at him ain't ya?" he said.

"N-no," I replied. "I just—"

"You really wanna piss him off?" He glared at me with a devilish glint in his eyes.

"What did you ... have in mind?"

He reached for my hand and guided it to his crotch. Though startled, I was also a little curious. Plus, it would add a nice touch to the show I was putting on for Rick. I reached inside his jean shorts and fished around under his boxers until I felt warm meat. I locked my fingers around his cock and pulled it out.

Something was wrong.

My jaw dropped open in shock. Donna had predicted three inches and we'd both shared a laugh at the thought. The joke was on us. I'd gone in searching for a worm. Instead, I came out holding a coiled python. Even semi-erect, my grip only went halfway around the girth. And lengthwise, I had to be holding at least eight inches.

He grinned and leaned back in the seat. "Not what you were expecting, huh?"

I sat mesmerized, unable to look away from the impressive specimen in my fingers. He took my wrist and started moving my hand up and down on his shaft. While I stroked him off, I looked back at the house. Rick stood in the doorway, staring at me with a curious gaze frozen on his face.

I turned my attention back to the rapidly swelling dick in my hand, jerking it softly.

"This thing is fuckin' huge," I said. "How does Sandra take this?"

"You'd be surprised what you can do ..." He gripped the back of my head with his fat fingers and pushed down, guiding my face to his dick. "... if you put your mind to it."

I panicked as his cock came closer to my mouth. I'd wanted to get back at Rick, but I wasn't sure I wanted to go as far as sucking Gerry off in the driveway.

"Gerry, wait," I said. "My neighbors might be—ummph."

The massive head invaded my mouth. Gerry kept the pressure on the back of my skull as he fucked my face. My lips were stretched to the limit trying to take him in. I should have been afraid and embarrassed, but something about the way he'd owned my mouth in front of my husband turned me on. I took a little more of him inside, lubing him with my swirling tongue. He pushed even more of his meat into my mouth, groaning.

"That's it, baby. Give the hubby a show."

Whether he knew it or not, that was the perfect thing to say to me at that moment. The fantasy of making Rick jealous, maybe even mad, was exactly what I wanted to live out. I pulled off and licked the sides of Gerry's shaft, rising up far enough to catch a glimpse of Rick still in the doorway. Just twenty minutes earlier, he couldn't wait to get me out of the house. Now he was standing there like a lost puppy, watching his slut wife blow a gargantuan cock.

I slurped Gerry back into my mouth and he moaned deeply, caressing his fingers through my hair and guiding me up and down on his dick. The more he pressed my head down on his shaft, the more I swallowed in.

Soon I was taking two thirds of the length with ease, bobbing up and down like a machine. I massaged his fat ball sack, while I tongued his length. Then I wrapped one hand around his cock and took the head in my mouth. From there I went in to my patented 'Three-Headed-Tiger-Exploding-Cock' technique—rotating my head while swirling my tongue on the way down, pumping his shaft with a firm 'milking' motion, and gently working his balls with my fingers.

Full disclosure: it's not really 'patented'. I actually picked it up from one of those vintage pornos from the 80's—the kind with all the cheesy background music and untamed bush. Yeah, I was pretty inexperienced back in high school, so I surfed a lot of porn. I was tired of being clueless about sex and decided to do my own research. Well, it began as research, but it wasn't long before I was rubbing out and deleting my search history like everyone else. For a while, I even thought I might be addicted.

The point is, the chick in the porno was very good at it. What I learned is that the suction from your mouth, combined with the milking of the shaft and the squeezing of the balls, builds up the pressure in the guy's cock to such a high level that when he finally climaxes, it's like a volcano erupting. I thought it looked interesting and theatric so I decided to try it out. The first guy I used it on actually proposed. We were 17.

Ryan Hathaway. Hmmm ... I wonder whatever happened to ... oh yeah. That's right.

The accident. The chemical plant explosion.

Both legs.

Poor guy.

Heard he got a good settlement though.

Anyway, I practiced the technique, added my own spin on it and over time it sort of became my 'go-to' move. So instead of patented, let's just say I perfected it. Rick certainly never complained and judging by the way Gerry was gripping my head and flexing his hips, I was about to get another rave review.

It didn't take long for Gerry to tense up.

"Here I go!" he said, clamping the back of my head with a death grip. "Ugh. Ugh. Uggghhh!"

Molten lava exploded out and filled my mouth. I pulled off to keep from choking and cum poured out of my lips, cascading down the sides of his cock. He twitched and fired another jet right into my eye. I tried to back away, but he held me in place.

"Take it all," he said. "Be a good little slut for me."

Thick ropes landed on my face, hair and the front of my shirt. Every time I thought he was finished, another stream blasted me. By the time he was done spurting, I was coated with goo.

"Fuck," I said.

"Woooo!" Sweating and out of breath, he patted the back of my head like I was his pet. "That damn Rick is one lucky son-of-a-gun."

I rested in his lap, trying to catch my bearings. I'd seen my share of violent loads, but I'd never witnessed a cock erupt with as much force as Gerry's. I found myself marveling at the thick slab of meat leaking its last dribbles of cum, inches from my face.

"Show him," Gerry said, grinning and wiping the sweat from his brow.

I brushed sticky strands of hair out of my face and rose out of his crotch until I was sitting straight up and staring out the windshield. My husband glared at me in disbelief. There I was, his precious little wife, parked in our driveway, my face plastered with gobs of another man's seed.

I saw Rick's chest rising and the heat radiating from his skull. I'd made him angry. Good. As far as I was concerned, it was fair play. I didn't say anything when he fucked Sandra right on our couch. All of the other husbands were good sports, including Gerry. Now it was his turn.

However, I doubted he was thinking about the logic. He and Sandra committed their acts in our house. But by allowing Gerry to take our show public, I'd crossed a line. He looked like he wanted to charge the car, pull Gerry out and kick the shit out of him. Gerry didn't help things by flashing that wide, shit-eating grin. Thankfully, Sandra reached for Rick's arm and pulled him inside the house before anything could escalate. Shaking his head, Rick turned away from the sight of me and closed the door behind him.

"Guess you showed him," Gerry said, shifting the gear in reverse.

"Yeah," I said. "Guess I did."

He pulled out of my driveway and eased into the street. I spotted Rick's silhouette in the window as Gerry sped off into the night. I almost felt sorry for him until I remembered that Sandra was probably on her knees at that very second, working his dick with her mouth. Soon, he'd forget all about my little stunt, focusing instead on the juicy pair of lips sucking him off. All that mattered was that I got a little payback. You have to savor the small victories.

"I need something to ... to wipe my face," I said.

"Nah," Gerry said, "You've never looked more beautiful to me than right now."

Beautiful? I'd heard the urban myths about how sperm was supposedly good for the skin, but I don't think that means you should wear it as makeup.

Gerry's cock was still out as he drove through our neighborhood. I wondered if anyone who knew me could ever imagine that the quiet, reserved woman with the awkward smile, could be the same woman riding off in middle of the night to get fucked by another man—with her husband's permission.

We rode in silence for a while. Gerry was content to occasionally swig his beer and bob along with the radio. I was still shell-shocked by what happened, wondering if I'd taken it too far with my little show for Rick. This was the type of shit couples worry about when they think about swinging.

What if it hurts our marriage?

Great. Rick comes up with a wild idea to spice things up, and I end up with the blame when it blows up in our face.

Speaking of shit 'blowing up in the face', I hadn't wiped Gerry's cum and it had started to dry. I could feel it caked on my skin and matted in my hair. Gerry glanced over at me with a smirk. I must have looked like the ultimate fuck slut. I'd spent half the night remarking on how much he repulsed me. Yet somehow I'd allowed myself to get into a position where he could look down on me.

How the hell did that happen?

Even worse, I was enjoying him. I enjoyed the way he made my pussy feel when he made me cum all over my loveseat. And I enjoyed swallowing his fat cock in front of my husband and letting him hose my face with goo. What was the appeal? Was it the taboo of submitting to someone I found disgusting? Was that the type of shit I was really into? Had the suburban wife and corporate Human Resources Manager actually been hiding a secret all this time—the desire to be sexually humiliated?

"Gotdammit," Gerry said, slowing the car and pulling up to a curb.

Blue lights flashed in the rearview mirror.

My stomach clinched into a knot.

"Shit Gerry. What did you do?"

"Think I ran a red light back there."

"You think?" I did a quick assessment of our situation and panic set in. "You've got an open beer ... shit. Zip up your—"

"Relax," he said. "I've got friends in PD. Just don't make any sudden moves."

"Sudden moves? The only sudden thing I'm likely to do right now is piss myself!"

He tugged his shorts until his soft cock slipped back inside, but he didn't zip up.

"It's gonna be fine." Gerry reached inside the armrest for his registration and insurance info. "Just let me handle it."

The officer appeared at Gerry's window—tall, middle-aged, brick jawline and serious eyes. He looked like one of those hardcore, 'by-the-book' types. If Gerry really did have friends on the force, I doubted it would matter to 'Officer Kick-Ass'.

"In a hurry?" he asked.

Gerry glanced at me then handed the officer his license and documents.

"Just giving a friend a ride home," he said.

The officer shined his flashlight over the interior of the car, eventually waving it over my cum-stained face. I squinted and looked away.

He flashed the light around the rest of the car, checking the back seats. "Just giving her a ride, huh?"

"She's a good friend," Gerry replied.

"Uh huh." The officer focused the light on Gerry's open crotch and unbuckled belt. "I'd say she was a ... very ... good friend."

"Well ... I won't disagree with you there," Gerry replied with a grin.

"Uh huh." The officer glared at me. "Ma'am, are you working?"

"Working?" I replied, confused. "Are you asking if I ... if I have a job ... or—"

"He wants to know if you're a prostitute," Gerry said.

"Yeah." The officer shined the light in my face again. "What he said."

I was halfway between flabbergast and indignant rage, before I remembered the reality of my situation. With my cum-crusted face, short skirt and disheveled hair, I probably did look like a hooker. Hopefully, I was giving off more of a 'call girl' vibe than 'streetwalker', but at the end of the day, the implied skill set was the same.

"No. No. I work at a software firm." Reflexively, I held up my hand to show him my ring. "I'm ... I'm married."

"To him?"

I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks. I could only look away and shake my head. "No."

"I see," he said. "So I guess we're talking lude, public acts, while operating a vehicle. Alcohol consumption while operating a vehicle. A possible DUI for your friend over here and least of all, failure to stop at a red light. Did I get all that, or am I missing something?"

"Well, if you did miss something, I don't think it would be too bright of us to point it out," Gerry said.

The officer's gaze tightened. "What's not bright Sir, is reckless, distracted driving. You're lucky you didn't lose control of this car and kill someone tonight."

"Well Officer, we promise to be more careful the rest of the way. We're just going a few more blocks up the r—"

"Sir, I'm gonna need you to step outside. And please buckle your pants first."

Gerry sighed, zipped his shorts and fastened his belt. "Be right back," he said.

He and the officer walked to the back of the car. I sat in my seat holding back tears. What if we were about to be arrested? Shit. It was the weekend. We might not get out until Monday! Out of all the perfectly valid reasons I didn't want to have that fuckin' 'key party' in the first place, none of them included the possibility of me ending up in a holding cell, fighting off dykes for two days.

Would Rick even post bail? As mad as I'd left him, he might decide to let me sit in there a while to teach me a lesson. Even if he did get me out, he'd never let me live it down.

Fuck. I'd have to call Donna, and she'd be asking me more questions than I'd want to answer. How the fuck did I end up in this situation? All I'd wanted to do was spice up my marriage—do something daring.

'Live a little.'

'Throw caution to the wind.'

'Walk on the wild side.'

'Some other bullshit cliché.'

Fuck my life.

I turned around slightly to see what was going on with Gerry and the cop. They were standing in front of the officer's car, talking. What if Gerry was about to be arrested and I was let off with a warning? Better than going to jail, but where would I go? Could I drive back to my house, to let Sandra know what happened? I'm sure Rick would love having me show up just when he was balls deep in Sandra's perfect, heart-shaped ass.

Geez. Was I actually rationalizing why I should be able to enter my own house? Sandra would want to know that her husband was in jail. Of course I would have to go home and tell her what hap—

Gerry startled me out of my thoughts by entering the car.

"All taken care of," he said.