What Fools These Mortals Be

On the other hand, my dear wife is a "Democratic-Socialist." So naturally, she's a longstanding pothead. And her buddy Michelle actually keeps it in her office at the Rayburn Building. She says she needs it to put up with the nonsense she has to deal with. So, Cheech and Chong toddled off to the other fire with Donnie, while Mark and I and William and Dotrice sat and talked.

Our wives were MIA for a suspiciously long time. Finally, Mark looked at his watch, stood up and brushed off his pants. He said, "I'm ready for bed. I'm going over and collect our two little stoners." He disappeared into the dark and then HE didn't come back. It was getting close to midnight and the noise and revelry was building to an intensity that would have made Caligula jealous.

Finally, I looked at William and said, "I don't know what Mark's doing. I'm going back to the boat and I don't want to leave them here. So, let's go get them."

The three of us walked to the other fire. The natives were dancing around it like a primal mating ritual was happening - which in effect it was. A few of the celebrants were just lying there looking out-of-it. That included Flip, Michelle and my best buddy Mark.

Donnie appeared out of the dark and draped a comradely arm around me. I pointedly unwrapped the arm and said, "What the fuck Donnie??!! How come they're all passed-out like that??!!"

He said, "Chill man! They tried some of our "blow-lunch-punch," want some? He held out a Solo cup that was full of a greenish fluid that looked radioactive. I held it to my nose. It smelled like rocket fuel. I knew that the three of them would never touch it sober. But any port in a storm if you're already drunk.

I said, "You mean to tell me these idiots drank that? What were they thinking?"

Donnie laughed scornfully and said, "Lighten up old man. That's what the other dude said - until his wife talked him into trying it. The first sip is harsh, but it goes down good after that. He's had three."

He winked and added with a lascivious smile, "I put a lot of Molly in it, just to spice it up."

I had no idea what he'd just said. Molly must be some kind of exotic liquor, maybe something mind-altering like Absinth. Given how wasted even Mark was, it obviously packed a vicious punch.

I was royally pissed. I said, We give you a ride here and you do THIS to my friends. Find another ride home asshole!" I shoved him off into the dark and he never returned. I was thinking about drilling holes in his shithole of a boat. Sinking it would improve the neighborhood.

Flip was clearly down for the count. She was by far the smallest of the three. So, whatever they'd all drunk would hit her the hardest. Michelle and Mark were trashed, but they were still ambulatory.

I scooped up the dead body of my poor wife and carted her to the Zodiac. William and Dotrice followed guiding a very wobbly Mark and Michelle. Mark kept falling down. He's a big guy and normally very steady. Whatever he had ingested was potent.

It was a struggle, but we got them all onboard. I was tempted to let them sleep it off on the livingroom floor. But I like my perch on the moral high ground and just dumping them for the night would make ME the asshole. The only other logical place was our stateroom.

The master stateroom makes up the aft part of the houseboat. It's fourteen by eighteen-feet and there's a California king bed in it. It could easily accommodate three unconscious drunks. So, William, Dotrice and I planted all of them there.

More importantly the master was an ensuite attached. I was sure that all three would have to worship the porcelain idol at some point in the night - perhaps a lot!! And I had no desire to get puke on my expensive carpet. The nasty stuff in their stomachs might eat a hole. So, a handy toilet was a must.

I laid Flip tenderly on her side of the bed. She was in her body stocking. I just took off her shoes. William and Dotrice dumped Michelle in the middle. Michelle was dressed as Hippolyta, she's the Amazon Queen. It was a classic Greek style shift. It ended two inches below her hoo-ha and showcased a full and muscular pair of legs. Michelle even looks a lot like Gal Gadot, so it was a textbook costume for her.

Finally, we bedded-down Mark on the far side. That would normally be my side. But I wasn't the person who would have to hurl in the middle of the night. My buddy was wearing the same hose and doublet outfit I was. The doublet looked uncomfortable, so we took it off. That left him in just a pair of tights.

Why didn't I sit up all night holding my poor sick wife's hand? Call me a bad husband. But at that point I was totally disgusted with her. I had never seen Flip get that wasted and I planned to have words with her about it as soon as she returned to the land of the living

They were all sleeping soundly when we turned off the lights and closed the door. I knew that they were going to hate themselves in the morning. The little devil who always sits on my left shoulder laughed and said, Good!!". Truth be told I wasn't pleased with any of them.

We have two smaller staterooms and since half the party was out-cold in one bed, I was going to sleep alone in the spare room. I bid my friends good night and thanked them for their help getting the three lost sheep situated. Then I stripped to my boxers and turned in.

*****

Flip was giving me one of her super-deluxe blow jobs. The woman is the Michelangelo of oral sex. She's so sensual that blowing me brings HER off. She was moaning like she does when she is just winding up for a monster orgasm. Then I woke up -- DAMN!!

But the moaning didn't stop. I jumped to my feet and listened. I could swear that I could still hear Flip's excited sounds. Puzzled, I followed the sex noises out the door of the guestroom and to the door of our room. She was getting louder and more insistent.

Flip isn't a big talker during sex. But her expressions of female enjoyment are ultra-hot and that was what I was hearing. I was more puzzled than upset. You know how it is when something totally inexplicable is going on. You just want to get to the bottom of things.

I opened the stateroom door and couldn't believe what I saw. I mean that literally. My eyes were sending pictures to my frontal lobe that were being sent back as "spurious data."

Flip was straddling Mark her marvelous legs were planted each side of his hips and her tight round buns were energetically rising and falling as she went up and down on his very wet and slimy cock. The frenzied cries of sexual extremis along with liquid sucking sounds and the heady smell of woman in-heat completed the picture.

Both of them were making loud effort noises, as they worked for their mutual orgasms. Flip was leaning way back now, hands resting on Mark's thighs, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling. Her broad meaty tits were flopping wildly as she ardently bounced on his impressive shaft, her big mud-brown nipples standing out like little bullets.

She uttered a deep lurid grunt each time she buried her lover's cock in her. It was like he was hitting herself in the stomach, which I suppose he was. The incessant, squishing thuds were almost as loud as Flip's passionate gasping.

Then, she leaned forward and placed her hands on each side of my friend's head. She tented her hair around the two of them and stared intently into his eyes. It was a deeply sensuous sight. Flip has a very erotic shape to her back, waist and ass; classically full, smooth and muscular.

Then, her hips went into undulations, like ocean waves. The rhythmic rolling became more-and-more frantic and my wife started the classic keening wail that women make when they are hit by a major orgasm. Her head snapped back, her mouth opened in a silent scream and she collapsed on Marks hairy chest while she violently shuddered and shook.

One part of my brain realized that the love of my life was moaning, wildly bucking and uncontrollably writhing on top of my best friend. But the rational part continued to lamely argue that "this couldn't be happening."

Of course, the irrational part of me was overwhelmed by rage. It wasn't a feeling that I could describe. It was the kind of gut-level fury that anybody would experience if they saw their wife getting her brains fucked out by another man. My reaction was far too complex to characterize. But it gave me a new understanding of why the Seventh Commandment was in the rulebook.

It was also the most erotic thing I'd ever witnessed. That was the paradox. Seriously... Anybody would be turned-on by the unrestrained monkey sex in front of them. It was unbelievably hot, and my ego was stoked by the proof that my woman was such a powerful and formidable sexual being.

Then suddenly, my boxers were violently yanked down, and my cock disappeared into a warm and very eager mouth. Reality had been turned inside-out. So, it was perfectly reasonable to look down into Michelle's dark sensual eyes, while she wrapped her luscious lips around my Johnson.

I'd been peripherally aware that she was lying on the bed naked, avidly fixated on the wildly fucking couple. She must have sensed fresh meat and knee-walked the four feet to where I was. It was ironic - really. My wife was being fucked into insanity by my best friend, not more than six feet from where Flip's best friend was driving me nuts with her succulent mouth.

I'm certain that the entire scenario raised a number of "important" psychological, moral and perhaps even religious concerns. They were indeed questions that a rational person might reflect on before committing adultery. But those puny human things were smashed into oblivion by the Mighty Hulk of my raging libido.

Like the big surf on Hawaii's North Shore, waves of lust were rolling up my spine and crashing into my brainstem. I pushed Michelle backward my dick popped out of her mouth. She looked at me inquiringly and saw a pawing, snorting, rutting animal. She laughed delightedly and lay back, slowly spreading her legs so that she looked like a human letter "Y."

I landed between those smooth powerful thighs like the allies storming Normandy, inserted into a vat of boiling hot honey and forthwith slid to the top. Michelle was tight but incredibly lubricated. She made a loud grunt of sensation and then threw her hips up to meet me with absolutely no regard for damage to her lady parts. At the same time, I heard the sound of Flip's shrieking and pounding bed springs. So, they must have reversed positions.

Michelle shot her legs strait up in the air, toes pointed, and she buried her claws in my ass. Then she began a low animalistic growl, deep in her throat. It sounded like Buster when he's tearing up a truck tire. I have never heard a woman make a noise like that. It was like I was plumbing the depths of her soul.

We were beating together like we were trying to fuse our loins. Flip was getting the same treatment from my friend Mark. I could hear machinelike pounding from the direction of the bed and my wife was making explosive Uh-Uh-Uh sounds!! It was a veritable factory of lust up there.

It had been a long time since I had fucked anybody beside my wife and you lose track of the fact that each woman is different. Flip might be a wild thing in bed, but she's small. Sex with Michelle was like wrestling a welterweight cinnamon bear. She was growling, and her hips were thrusting at an insane rate and she had both her arms and legs wrapped around me in a grip that was so frantic that it was obvious that I wasn't going anywhere until she was fully satisfied.

Michelle's mouth was open in a rictus of sheer sensation and she was literally drooling. Her eyes were glazed nobody home. Nothing but white showed when she'd occasionally open them. As she wound up to her orgasm, she started talking. She was urging me on with a constant stream of, "That's it Baby!! OH Yes!! OH, FUCK ME HARDER!! DON'T STOP!!"

All that time I was puffing like the "Little Engine That Could," trying to get up that hill. The sensations, sound, smell, the slickness of our mutual sweat and the increasingly insistent pulsing of her enclosing ring of muscle was getting me there faster than I wanted to go.

That was the instant when I heard a despairing shriek of absolute sexual frenzy followed almost immediately by rapid-fire grunting and groaning sounds that indicated that my wife and her partner had reached the end of the line. It stayed very loud on that bed, for an incredibly long period of time and I was distracted by my own business. But I couldn't miss the fact that Flip was having an orgasm for the ages.

Michelle must have heard Flip's spectacular cumming. Because it set her off. She threw her head back and just yelled, "AHHHHH" while her insides literally fizzed. Her yelling went on for perhaps a half-minute and then she began a toneless chant, "Give it to me baby!!! Give it ALL to me baby!!"

With that, I came so spectacularly that I thought they'd find my prostate embedded in her womb. The world narrowed to the singularity that was the source of the big-bang and exploded back outward to its current state. The effects of my cumming set Michelle off on a second frenzy of loud quivering and shaking. She began shrieking and then started bucking all over the floor, taking me along for the ride.

I finally got enough sanity back to focus. Of course, I instantly had one of those, "What have I done!!??" moments. Michelle was lying sprawled on her back, head turned to one side, mouth open and a rope of drool running down her cheek. She was out colder than the proverbial mackerel.

I was still embedded in her and mostly still hard. But I was rational again. So, round-two with her corpse was a non-starter. I pulled myself out with a sucking noise. Michelle moaned a small complaint. But she never came close to waking up. I rose unsteadily to my feet and surveyed a scene of utter destruction.

Flip was also out cold, legs spread obscenely wide, a river of cum running out of her distended pussy. Her big tits were frantically rising and falling from her overwrought breathing and her nipples were still pointing straight up. She looked about as well fucked as any woman I had ever seen.

Mark must have bailed out the minute he finished. He was lying face down like he had been shot. His long legs were lying across Flips cum covered thighs. He was either unconscious or asleep. It was hard to tell since I don't know whether comatose people snore like water buffaloes.

There was no way William or Dotrice could have slept through this. But I was hoping they would think it was just married sex, not a group orgy. I was sober through the whole thing and I was fully aware of what we had done. But it was the middle of the night and I'm a practical man.

Accordingly, I did what I would have in the first place; if I hadn't been so pissed at them. First, there was a little rearranging. I rolled Mark back to where he had been earlier. Then I picked up Michelle, she was probably 15 pounds heavier than Flip. But she didn't have an ounce of fat on her.

I carried Michelle to the bed and laid her down in the spot where she had originally been next to her husband. I made sure that her legs were closed, so nothing too obscene leaked out. I would burn the sheets in the morning. Then I gently pulled the covers over both of them. They didn't even stir. I wondered what they'd think when they came-to tomorrow morning.

I picked up my wife. She was still panting. Her nipples were red and distended and there were bite marks all over her boobs. Those truly superb things must have driven Mark as nuts as they do me. I pushed THAT thought down into my subconscious and carried her into the other stateroom. She would wake up there like nothing ever happened.

I laid her in bed and then a thought struck me. I whisked back into the master and grabbed her costume and her shoes. That left no evidence that she'd been in there in the first place, except a huge stain on the sheets. Mark and Michelle could make of that what they would. They were sleeping the sleep of the quasi-innocent now.

As is my habit, I woke with the sun. Flip had moved sometime in the three hours that we'd been asleep and was now lying with one arm thrown over my chest and her head on my shoulder, one big soft boob pressed into my ribcage. The smell of sex was everywhere.

I eased her sleeping form off me and went across the passageway for a quick shower. The hot water was invigorating. I would need a sharp mind when the other three woke up. This was going to be an extremely uncomfortable morning.

William and Dotrice were having morning coffee on the sun-deck so I joined them. They greeted me like anybody would, if they'd been the unwilling witness to a night of jungle-fucking. I said, "Sorry if we kept you awake but whatever Flip drank made her wild."

William and Dotrice exchanged looks. Then they laughed. Dotrice said chuckling, "Sheeit man, if I'd drunk that much Molly, I'd have fucked the whole island."

That statement was puzzling, but obviously significant. I said, "Molly? What's Molly and why would it make you want to do that?" They both looked at me pityingly.

William said trying to sound as diplomatic as possible, "Seriously??!! You mean that you don't know what Ecstasy is?"

I'm a nerd. I know EXACTLY what the club-drug named Ecstasy is. I'd just never heard it called Molly. It's one of the psychoactives, meaning it messes with brain function. It has medical purposes. But in-the-wild it's basically used for date rape.

A giant lightbulb went off in my head. Donnie had handed my friends drinks laced with Ecstasy. He'd even told me that he'd done it. He probably thought I'd thank him, instead of doing what I did; put them all in the same bed semi-naked. The only thing preventing me from going ashore and killing the little weasel was my newfound sense of crushing guilt.

The saving grace was that I knew that besides instigating bouts of hypersexuality, Ecstasy's a memory inhibitor. It has something to do with how dopamine levels impact the neuroreceptors. People under the influence react in the moment. But nothing is recorded. So, although the victim will willingly engage in all sorts of depraved acts, they don't remember what they did. I was hoping that was the case here.

I could live with the craziness from last night. That is, if the other three were none the wiser. Maybe that sounds deceitful but I'm a practical man. I will never be able to get the image of my wife's spectacular night of sex out of my head. But I also knew that it was circumstance, not intent. She would never do that in her right mind. I was good with that.

Life's tough. The important question is how you deal with the aftermath. It felt like the best way to approach this shitstorm would be to consider our mutual infidelity an "out of body" moment, something that happened in another dimension and would never reoccur on this plane of existence. My only concern was with the immediate fall-out. The next couple of hours would tell the tale.

I really liked both Mark and Michelle and I'm a grownup. So, I planned to see how much the others recalled. If they had any memory of the details of last night's debauchery, then our friendship was over. At a minimum, it would be too awkward. At worst, there might be pistols at dawn. After all, I DID knowingly fuck the guys wife.

Flip was heaving her guts out in the head when I came back with her cup of coffee. The sounds from the master indicated that the occupants were experiencing similar discomfort. Flip emerged looking like she regretted ever having heard the word "alcohol," let alone drinking it She was absolutely gorgeous, even with her greenish complexion, watery red eyes and her hair looking like a birds nest.