Walrus Test 01: Tusks

"Walrus Test 01: Tusks" by CraigOOL

Group Sex - Young couples become Stags and Vixens

[Author's notes: Warning! This is an extramarital consensual sex story, where the couples involved are seduced into becoming bisexual partners of a Stag and Vixen, thereby becoming Stags and Vixens themselves. This hopefully will be hot enough for the people who like these themes, as it does have a lot of sex in it. For those who don't like these themes please move along. Constructive comments are appreciated, hate speech will be deleted.]

[Warning: This story has extensive male/male sexual contact, in addition to the wife being turned into a complete slut. It would be more at home in the Fetish - Cuckold category, except for the difference between cuckold/hotwife couples and Stags/Vixens.]

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Beth and I had been innocently "dating" Bret and Cyn for many years. We played sand volleyball together in the summer (along with Joe and Dot) and gym volleyball the rest of the year. My Beth was a swimmer, gymnast, and weightlifter in college, short and stout ("Mostly shorted on the tits" she often joked) but with an ass that can crack walnuts and B cup tits that will never need a bra. Cyn tried to live up to her name with blonde highlights or "frosting", but her tall lithe body made her the perfect spiker for Beth's sets.

Dot (nobody that knew her ever called her Dorothy) was more earth-bound, a double D cup fertility goddess, but god bless could that woman shag down balls! Bret was always the one helping her up when she fell, or any of the rest of us, a true knight in shining armor, in furry hunter form, never without his beard or a quick quip that would make us all blush. Just as Cyn is some kind of walking wet dream, all the women in our league agreed that Bret was a visual panty remover. Joe was just an average joe, not too much this, not too much that, go along to get along, usually to get Dot into drinking games that often "somehow" turned into wet t-shirt contests. Harmless adult fun, but we hadn't yet crossed that invisible line that would lead to all out sex.

I'm Don. Instigator of said wet t-shirt contests, obsessed with Dot's and Cyn's jugs, plus just as often wet panty contests to show off my wife's incredible ass (plus lush pussy lips). Not to be outdone, my normally shy wife would make us do wet brief contests, and all three of these women have stroked my hard cock (albeit through my underwear), leaving Joe and I with the certainty that neither of us was too much more hung than the other (within a half inch or so).

Bret was another matter. Beth wouldn't tell me, and I never got a clear look, not that I was all that curious. All of this was just playful adult fun, and didn't get too far out of hand, as I said before. But dammed if we didn't push against that line until it was bound to snap.

We took care of their kids so they could have a weekend, they took care of ours, we were like a big extended family that fondled each other at each and every excuse. Kind of like the Bonobo chimpanzees. So we were often at each other's houses, with or without our spouses. That was how the world changed, and the line got fucked up, big time.

Bret called to ask me to come over and watch a game, or play some Call of Duty (which we both love). "Cyn is baking!" he said with glee.

"What does that even mean?" I asked, rather confused.

"It means two things. Fresh, hot, gooey homemade from scratch chocolate chip cookies in piles you cannot finish. Second, Cyn always, and I mean ALWAYS bakes in nothing but her best lingerie, hose, and heels." Bret taunted.

"No shit?" I said as my head spun round baby, right round as I asked myself for a split second why Bret would want to show me the previously private parts of his wife, dissolving instantaneously into an intense desire to see those sweet parts.

Cyn has a way of oozing pheromones, just as she has a habit of saying the most erotic things, implying everything is possible and everyone is available. She often claimed to have attended swinger parties regularly with her first husband. I have no doubt she is bi and a ferocious man eater at the same time. Like the cookies, I am eager to be eaten. Given the chance, I would eat my fair share too. I have no illusions that Beth would turn down eating Cyn's cookie, or letting Cyn eat hers.

"No shit. Cyn on display for at least an hour. Besides, she's more than eager. You know the exhibitionist streak is strong with her, right?" Bret explained.

"Sheebus dude, you had me at the cookies! I'll be there in five minutes." I promised as I took the fastest shower ever, put on a fresh t-shirt and shorts, then bounced across the street.

"That was quick, Don." Bret chuckled at their door, opening it before I had a chance to ring the bell.

"So where is she?" I tried to look around him.

"Cyn is in the kitchen. We'll be in the den. I'll tell her to bring us some beers." Bret offers with the same smile that makes Beth's panties liquefy.

So I go sit down on the couch, facing the kitchen, while Bret blocks my view. The fridge door opens and he comes to sit on the other end of the couch, as all I can see is her fuck me heels and feet in dark hose. She closes the fridge door and there she is, revealed. Too bad beer companies can't show what she does on TV, because guys (and most women) would buy very much more beer than they already do.

Red lace lingerie, so delicate it is for all practical purposes transparent. Her dark areolas, adorned with nipples that are very stiff, pushing out the lace in un-mistakeable ardor. To see her luscious breasts almost totally revealed threatens to give me a massive erection. An erection results anyway. I can hardly breathe she is so fucking hot!

Cyn is nothing if not a perfectionist in her makeup. Yet she is licking her lips like she sees her last meal in front of her, as her eyes flash with lust. She smiles as she catches my awareness of how sexy she looks to me.

Her long legs strut - no, that's not quite right - she sashays towards us, doing the stripper heel/toe line walk that puts every step on the same line, while shaking those beautiful breasts from side to side. They have not swung so freely in front of my eyes before, with the possible exception of our wet t-shirt contests.

She sets the beers down on the opposite side of the couch table from us, moving between Bret and myself, then bending over to slowly open Bret's beer, forming a perfect "L" with her body, ass sticking out, tits hanging down like ripe fruit waiting to be picked. My eyes are glued to the lacy dress that is glued to the luscious cheeks of her ass, and what is on display between them. Dark full lips, spread open in excitement, either at what she is showing me, or because she's been playing with herself, or both.

I can even see the inner lips, her "roast beef" showing her pearl framed in two sturdy parts of the same arch, like an inverted wishbone. Her undoubtedly delicious sweet twat pulsing as she demonstrates her muscle control. The dusky rosebud of her ass calls to me. I really need to fuck this woman. My cock is fully erect as she slowly opens my beer, then sashays away, her skirt still diagonally hoisted upon that sweet heart shaped ass.

Two beers later, I'm ready to grab that heart shaped ass and fuck her right in front of Bret's smug face. I've had my fill of gooey hot fresh from the oven chocolate chip cookies, and I thought that would never be possible. Cyn returns, sliding a plate of cookies in between us, then slides herself on the couch between us, pressing her full rack into the side of my chest, so my chest is little more than a breast meat sandwich.

It takes me several moments to realize her hand has slid up inside my baggy gym shorts, where she is slowly stroking my cock, flesh to flesh for the very first time. I'm unsure of how hard I am, and I will my hard-on to be better, flexing it against her hand, hoping against hope she will like it better. Maybe even kiss it.

Cyn whispers in my ear "I've rubbed my pussy into oblivion over the years, dreaming of getting the chance to fuck you. God knows if you'd made a full and forthright pass at me we would have been lovers years ago. I want your thick hot fucking cock. I want you to fuck me. You'll find I can be very persuasive, and very determined. We are going to fuck, and not just once, so you better figure out that the future of this hard cock is between my legs and in my mouth."

I sit there stunned, at being so blatantly propositioned right in front of Bret. The moment of silence gives Bret his cue.

"I'd like to share Cyn with you tonight." Bret says from somewhere that seems so far away, though the fog of my arousal.

"I don't think he has any blood flow left in his brain. It's all in this great big cock. He's bigger than you, just like I told you." Cyn teases.

There is an audible groan from Bret as he continues "What do you say Don? Care to help me service my wife's carnal needs?"

"No baby. Not you sharing me with him. Him taking me. Him fucking me in whatever hole he wants, whenever he wants, if he can pass the walrus test." she says with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

"Why does he get to take you?" Bret almost whines.

"Because he has the bigger cock. Just like Victor. Remember when you slept on the floor just to hear us screw? Remember how I cried out his name, how he made me come harder than you ever could? Remember when you begged to suck his cock hard again so he could fuck me one more time, just so you could suck the cum out of my pussy? He's not as big as Victor, but he is bigger than you, and the bigger cock gets me. That's always been our rule. You've already lost our marriage, do you really want to risk losing me and our relationship as well?" Cyn scolds him, with a mean tone of voice I'd never heard her use before.

"What is this walrus test?" my all too lubricated brain finally catches up with the previous part of the conversation.

"I like you fully lubed like this. Means we can fuck for hours. So to answer your question, do you know Madonna's song about how to make a fire without wood? I think it is called "where life begins"? Ever notice how none of our kids looks like Bret here? Good. So first you get two sticks, and rub them together. Then you lick them and suck them together until one of them comes, and the other makes it rain. The winner who lasts longer gets the woman. The loser gets to clean up the cum. Don't worry, Bret likes to lose, he can't wait to suck down your cum."

I move to slide my fingers between her long dark tresses, while my other hand reaches out to finger her dripping wet snatch. I close my fist, locking her head under my control, pulling her lips to mine, kissing her deeply. I slide two fingers into her tight box as my thumb brushes back and forth on her clit. Cyn gets wound up in a hurry, grinding into my hand, but I pull it out as she gets too close to orgasm.

"Dude, help me out." Bret says as he pulls my now free hand to his bare cock.

So I swear, in all my years this is the first time I've ever had my hand on another dude's junk, but it didn't wig me out like I thought it would. I give him three or four strokes. His tip is soft, even though his shaft is steel bar hard. The skin still glides on the shaft, and Cyn is right, his cock is much smaller than mine, at least two, maybe three inches, although stiffening quickly under my touch. His ballsack and pubes are completely shaved, so I can tell he is on the edge of cumming all over my hand.

I pull up off the couch, letting Bret's cock go free, while keeping a firm grip on Cyn's hair. I yank up her pretty lace dress, as she raises her arms. I trade one hand for the other in her hair, as my other tosses the dress towards another chair. I get her face moving towards Bret's rampant cock as I slowly try to figure without remembering when Bret pulled his shorts down. I thought I would have noticed when another guy pulled his dick out in front of me. Maybe when I was kissing Cyn?

I push Cyn down on his dicklet, as she slowly sucks him, knowing all too well how close he is to blowing his load in her mouth. I'm guiding her to suck him even more slowly, just as the bell dings in the kitchen.

Cyn pulls off his small prick, brightly says "Cookies!" and rushes off. She bounces even better naked than she does in lingerie or t-shirts. She is bending over at the oven, legs spread wide, as she looks back to see if I'm watching. We smile at each other, as her oven mitts quickly pop the cookies out and she sets them down on the stove.

"Perhaps we should just slowly jack each other off until she gets back." Bret suggests with a sly smile.

"Despite you being my best friend and letting me fuck your wife, it does not mean I've gotten the hots for you. Besides, if I stroke you any more, you'll come all over my hand and automatically lose. You know how I am about competitions. I want to beat you fair and square, but not by beating your meat." I say firmly.

"Nor do I want to beat your meat unfairly. You're still unable to tear your eyes from my dick, and yours isn't any softer. So you must be as queer for my dick as I am for yours. Or maybe Cyn is just so fucking hot, we are both still turned on by her even though she left the room." Bret soothes.

He wasn't wrong about my staring at his prick. I've seen them in porn films, but a real, breathing, pulsing dick is a different thing altogether, especially one you've already stroked. The cap of his helmet flares more than mine, to make up for the smaller size with more stimulation, I would guess. My ballsack has gone full walnut, wrinkled and tight since I'm too close to cumming for comfort. Bret's is like a balloon, small and round and tight, except closer to being half the size of his shaft, while mine is more like a sixth.

Cyn walks back in, with an apron covering her nakedness.

"No more hair pulling. It was fucking hot, but we are done with that, ok?" she pouts.

I respond by reaching up to pull her down for a kiss, while untying and slipping off the apron. I then grab her hair, pulling her to fall face down on our laps, head closest to Bret, luscious ass pointing up at me. Almost like I'd planned it that way.

"Get to work." I order curtly.

"It should be your cock, not his!" she hisses.

My hand moves of it's own free will, flying through the air harder than I would have preferred, slamming down on the right cheek of her ass, which had more jiggle than I would have predicted.

"Owww! Goddamn it that hurt!" Cyn shrieks.

I follow it with another onto her left cheek at the same intensity, while I quickly try to re-establish control with my left hand in her hair.

"Damn it that hurt!" Cyn cries out as she turns to face me, nearly ripping her own hair out, "Motherfucker, if you touch me like that again, I swear I will go get my fucking.45 and put two in your chest and two between your eyes!" Cyn hisses. I'd been with her to target practice on the gun range and her threat was no joke. But it was also nothing more than the bleat of a brat who realizes she's no longer in control.

I laid down a barrage of swats on her ass, then fondled her pussy and clit, then another barrage of swats on her ass, as her breathing got so deep as her body responded. I knew from the stories of her and Victor, that she loved getting fucked hard. I've never know a single woman who liked that who did not also love - even crave - the spank and diddle. Bret got very little attention, but he did not mind one bit as he sat there chuckling.

She groans and wriggles, thrusting and convulsing, as she yields to my onslaught, each chain of orgasms wearing her down. When she finally slows down enough to properly suck off Bret again, I know we are done for now.

"Cyn, I own this ass. I own your pussy. I own your sweet cocksucking mouth. But if you ever threaten me again with a gun, I will take it away from you permanently and paddle you so hard you will not be able to sit down for a month, and that will make things difficult for you at work, won't it missy?" I say sternly.

"Yes Sir." Cyn hisses through clenched teeth.

"You are used to being top dog, Bitch in Command, while you cat around and rub your cum filled cunt in Bret's face. That ends today." I sternly instruct.

"Does it have to? I actually like it." Bret objects.

"The thing about the cum guzzling of her cunt is neither here nor there, and I don't intend to stop it. I was talking about being in command. That isn't her place anymore." I said to a corresponding gush of wetness from the sloppy wet slot I am still playing with.

I continued, "Be that as it may, what Cyn craves, more than anything else, is the Father that walked out on her and her mother. You look like him, but she knew on your first date, when she went home with another guy and you came back looking for more, that you were the whipping boy she could take out all that pain and torment upon. So she picked your best friend, to show you that even those closest to you would choose her pussy over you. Well that pussy is mine now, and we will fuck it like it has never been fucked before. You'll get all the cum you can swallow my friend, but your ex-wife and live-in lover now belongs to me." I explain.

"But what if I don't want to give myself to you?" Cyn teases.

"I'm not a rapist. I won't take you without your full and knowing consent. Do you want to give yourself to me, fully and completely, without reservation, or purpose of evasion?" I demand.

"Yes, Sir." Cyn says cheerfully.

"Do you, Bret, give your ex-wife to me, fully and completely, without reservation, or purpose of evasion?" I demand.

"God yes!" Bret says with a trace of tears in his eyes.

"Then all we have left is this walrus test. Mind you Bret got his dicklet sucked for awhile, so I should get equal time first, but not too much because he's just as likely to get too turned on watching you blow me." I joke.

"Present cock, Sir." Cyn says cheerfully.

Noting she is slipping her heels off, I quickly say "Leave the heels on Cyn, and point your toes. They will make some memorable points to your ass." I push her back onto her knees, where the heels dig into her well padded ass cheeks, forcing her to automatically correct her posture. My hand, still tangled in her hair, guides her as I smoothly stand so as not to pull on her, while I step out of my shorts. Pulling her face to my cock, I let her have a tender moment, where she kisses my cock and tries to demonstrate her oral tricks.

Cyn's soft lips kiss my cock helmet, sliding down the shaft, as her throat swallows to milk the cum right out of me. She chuckles, doubly erotic when your cock is buried in her throat. Her hands spiral on the shaft, tugging and pulling the skin taunt, forcing the cock to stiffen to fill the slack skin. It would be worth having her spend some time teaching those techniques to Beth. Visions of hot threesomes with my wife threaten to spin me out of control. Beth and Cyn together - hot - hot - HOT!

I decide it is time to put her back on those heels in another way, and I knew she knew it was coming. But it had to be done, and it had to be done now. I grab her hair on both sides, picking up the pace and the depth of strokes. I change her delicate blowjob into a much more dominant face fucking. I slam my cock down her throat, deeper and deeper each stroke, as tears stream down her face, her messy drool wrecking her careful makeup. I had to be careful, because despite how powerful and dominant I needed to be,

Cyn is a hot woman who is clearly no stranger to men treating her as their slut. Yet I needed to straddle that line between fucker and lover. Her tongue lines the bottom of my cock and she relaxes her throat so it doesn't get all bruised up. She also grabs my balls, so that if I go too far, she could pull the emergency cord on the blowjob choo-choo train. I am a little too drunk to see the end of the line coming, and like the old Grateful Dead song, I am about to jump the tracks when what I wanted is to go down slow.