The Sacrifice Pt. 03

It took tremendous willpower to stay non-judgmental about the decadent encounter Chris had with the bikers. Never in my wildest dreams did I think my lovely wife would allow herself to get gangbanged and then sent home with a tattoo. The fact that she appeared to be an eager participant only made the encounter seem more surreal.

After the previous meeting, we experienced a strange euphoria that felt pleasant even though we couldn't describe it accurately. However, it didn't appear this time which wasn't surprising given how far things went. Several times, we tried to address the issue head-on but, on each occasion, we struggled to find the right words and quickly retreated to the comfort of silence. Soon, we gave up trying having never achieved closure.

Time became the salve to heal our wounds and we managed to gain some peace from the routine of daily life. Strangely, it took less time than I expected for Chris to return to normal, exhibiting her vivacious nature to all around her. Even in the bedroom, she soon acted like the wife and lover I knew. However, rather than accept and appreciate this outcome, I found myself wondering how a woman could experience something so outrageous and not suffer more from guilt and regret. I didn't dwell on it all the time, and I made an effort to give no outward sign of concern, but in quiet moments when I was alone it often popped into my head and I would find myself staring off into space as I contemplated the meaning. Fortunately, as the weeks ticked by the periods of reflection waned although I never did land on a comforting answer.

Three months after the event, my wife took a short overnight business trip, and not eager to return to an empty house, I stayed late at work. Staring out the window of the high-rise building, I realized my gaze was towards the south, straight in the direction of Falcon's house. It made me think of DeAnne and the fact that somewhere in my field of view was the club where she worked as a stripper. Her pleasant face and luscious body appeared in my thoughts and I wondered how things were going in her life. Was she still living with the hard biker or had he moved on? He didn't seem to be the stable type but DeAnne made few demands so maybe she had managed to hang on. As I considered her situation, an urge hit me to check on her, and in just a few minutes, I had packed my things and started towards my car.

Without traffic, the drive to the club was about fifteen minutes but since it was Thursday and the end of rush hour, it took me almost forty-five. After entering, it only took a few minutes to spot the young woman but she was sitting with a man and they stayed together for over an hour. I had just decided to leave when I saw her stand and head towards the dressing room, so I quickly flagged my waitress

"That girl...Mercedes I think...I'd like for her to join me," I told her.

She nodded and fifteen minutes later I saw DeAnne approaching. She wore a red semi-translucent baby doll through which I could see her splendid breasts.

"Oh, wow!" she said excitedly when she recognized me.

"Yes, wow!" I responded, allowing her to sit close to my side.

"Are you going to talk to Falcon again?" she asked, which I assumed meant they were still together.

I chuckled a bit and replied, "I've got no plans to. Chris is out of town so I thought I'd come see you."

"Nice!" she declared happily and then asked, "Ready for a dance?"

I let her dance twice and as soon as her cover came off my hands went to her breasts. She smiled at me as I gently fondled them and before long, I moved one hand to her ass. When she finished, she landed on my knee with her arm draped over my shoulder.

I didn't have an agenda, so I decided to just engage in idle chit-chat and asked, "So, how have you been doing? Everything okay?"

"I'm doing fine...nothing special going on. How's your wife?" she responded.

"She's fine," I replied.

"She really let go last time. She had some fun," DeAnne giggled.

"It got out of hand," I countered and an odd expression appeared on the young dancer's face.

"Okay," she answered, and before I could probe, she rose and said, "How about another dance?"

I nodded to her but her reaction made me think she was purposefully trying to move away from the subject. It piqued my interest and while I enjoyed her sensual movements, I thought about the best way to draw the information from her. The first danced segued into a second and when our waitress swung by, I nodded for another round. The drinks arrived before DeAnne finished and as soon as she returned to my knee, she picked up her glass and started to talk about music, movies, and celebrity gossip. I let her ramble on over the din of the driving bass beat as she seemed quite happy which made me wonder if she ever had a similar conversation with Falcon. About ten minutes had passed when I realized my hand was slowly gliding along the smooth skin of her thigh. It made me think about our times together which, despite my worries regarding Chris, had proven to be very enjoyable. Suddenly, she stopped speaking, recognizing she had lost my attention, and gave me a questioning look.

"I'm sorry. I was thinking about the times we were together," I said hoping she would take it as a compliment.

A smile appeared on her face and she replied, "Did you like it?"

"Loved it," I answered.

"Really? You're so sweet," she responded.

"I had fun. Do you really think my wife did too?" I asked.

With the mention of Chris, for a moment, an annoyed expression appeared on her face, but it quickly disappeared and she answered, "Oh yeah...for sure. I heard Falcon and Vince talking about how wild she got. They were surprised. She made Falcon fuck her before he brought her back."

The discussions with my wife about the encounter assured me that no force was involved, although she was reluctant to provide much detail. Although I would have liked to press for more info, I decided to keep on the good side of DeAnne and returned to our casual conversation. An hour later, feeling the effects of the alcohol, I decided it was time to depart.

"DeAnne, I enjoyed the evening but I need to go," I declared.

She gave me a playful pout and replied, "Me too. Are you going to come again?"

"Do you want me to?" I asked.

"Yeah, I like talking to you," she answered.

"Well, then I'll certainly try," I said.

A big smile appeared on her face and after a quick hug, I was out the door. On the drive home, I reflected on the evening and DeAnne's message about Chris's involvement. She had described her position as one of reluctant acceptance but the young dancer's words had alluded to much more. In truth, I would have preferred my wife's answer as it allowed some wiggle room on her virtue, but deep inside I knew that DeAnne's words had merit.

The evening at the club reignited many of my lustful thoughts and I found myself looking at my wife differently. My mind returned to the scenes of the biker pleasing her at his house and Mad Dog's. I tried to think of a word to describe what I had witnessed and finally decided it had to be "abandon". She had indeed let go of all the things that provided her a safety net to experience some raw, powerful fucking.

Coupled with my thoughts on Chris were those concerning DeAnne. I had to admit that I enjoyed her company. In fact, I enjoyed it a lot. She lacked the education and worldliness of my wife, but she had a simple charm that, for some reason, I found thoroughly engaging. Our time with Falcon had started as an exploration of Chris's fantasy and her limits. In that realm, DeAnne merely provided a means to the end. However, I knew that if we did anything again, my interest in the young woman would be a key motivator which forced me to shake my head at the irony of my wife's declaration of sacrifice.

Three weeks later, after lying to my wife about a business dinner, I arrived at the club hoping to find DeAnne. Fortunately, I spotted her almost immediately and since it was early, the crowd was smaller and she was alone.

"Wow! You're already back," she giggled over the loud music.

"I thought you wanted me to?" I teased.

"I did," she responded as she took a position on my knee.

A hand went to the buttons on my shirts and seconds later she had several undone and after reaching in, she started to softly stroke my chest. I let her hand wander while I ordered drinks and I sensed that DeAnne was truly pleased by my visit.

"Damn, that feels good," I said.

"You're so nice. It was sweet what you said last time," she answered.

Quickly, I tried to recall our conversation and decided she had to be referring to my statement about enjoying our time together in bed. It also made me wonder how often she received compliments or just kind words. I took it for granted that a pretty, young woman with a sweet disposition would receive flattering messages often but maybe not. Perhaps, it just wasn't something that happened in the biker world.

Two dances later, after ordering fresh drinks, I decided to probe some more about Chris and asked, "Last time, you said you thought my wife enjoyed the...you know. Do you think she'd do something again?"

"Yeah," the young dancer answered instantly.

"That was quick," I chuckled and then continued with, "What makes you so sure?"

"I told you last time and besides..." she started before suddenly going quiet.

"What DeAnne? Tell me," I implored her sensing there was more.

She gave me a strange look that lingered for several seconds before she answered, "She's talked to Vince some. I heard him and Falcon talking about it."

"You're kidding? Really?" I responded and then added, "Have they met?"

"They hadn't I don't think but that was a few weeks ago. Vince thought he was getting close," she explained.

"Wow," I said and shook my head as the message sank in.

"Yes, so I bet she'd jump at the chance if you set it up," she giggled.

"That's all? Nothing more," I pushed wanting the full landscape.

"Well, they talked about how much fun they had making her get dirty. They've laughed about it a couple of times, I guess," she replied as her smile evaporated.

The two bikers discussing my wife's debauchery didn't surprise me but the idea that she had held multiple conversations with Vince was a different story. I tried to visualize how the interaction occurred, who called who, how long it had lasted, and the breadth of the conversation but couldn't arrive at a satisfactory view. In my mind, Vince would come on so strong that it would turn off my wife. Had he somehow managed to play the seducer or was Chris so into the sex that she reveled in the degenerate talk? Despite the current circumstances and my involvement in pushing her down the sordid path, a wave of disappointment swept through me but right behind it came anger. However, I managed to hold it back, and rather than express myself with an outburst, I decided to take an alternative approach.

"Well, she's a big girl," I said signaling to DeAnne the subject was over.

The pretty young woman gave me a wry smile but seemed happy to move on. I let DeAnne return to her favorite subjects and with our bodies close together, I managed to pepper her shoulders with light kisses as my hands caressed her body.

"Can I dance?" she asked a few minutes later and wanting her to stay in good spirits, I agreed.

As she moved, I maintained a soft connection with her body with the intent to tease, hoping any unseen defenses she had might recede.

"DeAnne...what would you think about getting together outside the club? For dinner...just you and me," I asked when she had returned to my lap.

"Really? Like a date?" she responded and when I nodded, she added, "Where would we go?"

"A nice place. Somewhere you could get dressed up for," I answered.

For just an instant, a look of vulnerability appeared in her eyes but it disappeared quickly as she replied, "I haven't been on many dates. I mean...you know...real dates."

"Let do it!" I said enthusiastically.

"It's exciting..." she started but a thought suddenly filled her head and her expression changed. Still smiling, she let out a deep breath and said, "You got to work it out with Falcon."

"It can't be our secret?" I asked although I knew I was playing with fire.

"You know I'm with Falcon," she giggled, and then said, "I hope you call him."

Thirty minutes later as I drove home, I thought about my attempt to get DeAnne to myself. It had started as a response to the message about my wife's communication with Vince but as the wheels whined beneath me, I finally admitted to myself that the idea had been percolating for some time. On a grander scale, did it mean that Chris' declaration held significant truth? Was this all about my interest in the young dancer and was my wife indeed making a sacrifice?

When I entered the house, I located Chris curled up on the couch watching TV. I excused myself to take a shower and get the smell of the club off me and she was in the same spot when I returned fifteen minutes later. DeAnne's message acted as a hammer in my brain and bolstered by the alcohol, I took my wife's feet and slowly massaged them hoping it would lead to more. Perhaps, if we proceeded to sex an opportunity might arise to probe some on the bikers.

Chris accepted my approach and soon I had soft sighs emerging from her mouth. She understood my intent and a few minutes later when I reached for her hand, she let me guide her to the bedroom. Quickly, we were naked and after several sensual kisses, I moved to her small nipples, kissing, sucking, and softly nibbling on them before descending further. I found her pussy already slick and slowly traced the length with the tip of my tongue several times before moving to her clit. I wanted to inflame her a bit more before putting my dick inside but her passion grew so quickly that I decided to take her over the top. It only took a few minutes of rapid cat licks to her nub before her body stiffened.

"Ummm...ohhh...ohhh...ugghhh...close...so close," she whimpered, and then seconds later, her back arched and she cried out loudly, "Oh, yes...yes...ohhh...oh yes..."

I kept at it until her hand gently pushed on my head signaling, she had had enough. With a wet mouth, I lifted over her and as she looked up at me with a contented smile, I found her opening. We sighed together as my shaft burrowed deeply into her warm hole and when I found her bottom, I became still to enjoy the connection. Although satiated, Chris serenaded me with soft purrs and it wasn't long before her lips found mine. When we finally broke, I began to move slowly which immediately brought forth more mews of pleasure.

I wanted to probe my wife about her contact with Vince but couldn't think of a good way to initiate the discussion. I thought she might get defensive and deny it, which would be counterproductive, but now with her relaxed and satisfied, I thought I might learn something if I posed the question cleverly.

"You feel so good," I whispered.

"Mmmm...so do you," she sighed.

"You know, when I lick you, I'm looking right at your tattoo," I said.

"Close your eyes," she giggled.

It was a shameless reply and indeed she seemed quite pleased with her wit but it did provide me the opportunity to carry on.

"Do you miss it? The bikers?" I continued.

"You miss DeAnne," she countered.

Although her tone showed no anger, I paused for a moment but when she started to nibble on my ear lobe, I felt comfortable to proceed.

"No, baby. I'm just trying to understand. Have you talked to any of them?" I responded.

Several seconds elapsed before she replied, "Baby, you're the one that does the talking."

In that short pause, I had my answer. Her connection with Vince went all the way back to the camping trip where she allowed him to watch her in the shower. At the time, she claimed it was the path of least resistance but there was something in the way they interacted. Plus, after the last trade where things got so out of hand, it was Vince's house where she stayed the night. Now, I had to ponder whether her interaction was a flirtation that kept alive the thought of her encounter or if it meant something more.

"I think you've always had a thing for Vince," I stated, deciding to push harder.

"You have a thing for DeAnne," she replied and for the first time, I heard some nervousness in her voice.

"You went to his house. Got your tattoo," I said as my movements stopped.

"Why are you doing this? You're ruining the mood," she whined.

"Did you talk to him? To Vince?" I asked pointedly deciding I needed to hear her admit the truth.

I lifted so I could see her face and we stared at each other as the seconds passed before with a sigh, she admitted, "Once."

"What happened? Tell me about it," I demanded.

"He called some but I never answered before," she replied.

"But you did this time," I prodded.

"Yes, I guess so," she responded.

"Why this time?" I probed.

"I was alone in the house. You were out of town," she answered meekly.

I thought about saying something judgmental but I still wanted to learn the extent of the interaction, so I kept my cool and asked, "Tell me about it. What did you talk about?"

"I don't remember...I really don't," she answered and after a pause, said, "He wanted to get together."

"He wanted you to go to him," I stated rather than asked.

Another short silence ensued before she replied, "He wanted to come here. I said no."

At first, hearing about the biker's desire to visit our home surprised me but after a little contemplation, I realized it shouldn't at all. As an aggressive male, fucking another man's wife in her bed without her husband's knowledge was likely a huge turn-on.

"So, I guess he wanted to plant his flag in our house," I replied sarcastically.

"No...I don't know. He lives with a girl so he wanted to come here," she explained.

"Where was she...that weekend?" I asked thinking back to the last meeting.

"I don't know. I guess away for the weekend," she replied.

"How many more times did you talk to him?" I asked, hoping to catch her off-guard.

"None," she replied although I could tell she was lying.

"Chris, please tell me the truth," I said sternly.

"I don't know...a couple," she answered, now very uncomfortable.

"Have you met him? Have you fucked him? Any of them?" I demanded.

"No!" she replied emphatically.

"But you want to," I said and pushed my dick into her forcefully.

"Uggghhh..." she gasped, and then added, "I don't."

At first, I ignored her words and concentrated on fucking her with full, powerful strokes. She too went silent, save for her gasps and sighs, and I let her think the conversation was over before suddenly returning to the subject.

"Yes, you do... You like being a biker chick," I whispered into her ear.

"It's so you can be with her...with DeAnne! You sacrifice me so you can be with her," she responded returning to the theme she always used to deflect her desire for illicit sex.

My mind returned to the physical nature of our connection and suddenly, I was one of the bikers with no emotional connection taking her just for the raw sex. The more it churned in my brain the more aggressive I became and soon I was fucking her as hard as I ever had. The sounds coming from Chris, coupled with the rapid movement of her hands over my arms and back, informed me that she was getting something very pleasurable from the mating as well which forced me to consider if she might be fantasizing about Vince or Falcon. However, I didn't dwell on it as a desire was rapidly building within me to release the contents of my balls. For the final minute, it consumed all my mental and physical energy and when my thoughts went to Mad Dog's place where I witnessed my wife seeking out more of Falcon's cock as I stood just a few feet away, I lost control.