Without a Net

"You go girl!" Suzanne gushed.

"That's it, Charles! Bring it home now!" Eddie cheered, red-faced.

Charles was ready to blow. What man wouldn't be? Seeing a beautiful specimen of femininity like Jeannie, transfixed by your penis, carried away by the passion of mating with you, literally ramming herself back onto your shaft in delight? And then knowing, too, that her womb was fertile and utterly at your mercy? As I understand it, this checks just about every masculine box.

Except maybe one. Now normally, when our group got together, it was share and share alike. And although Charles undoubtedly had an ego, he basically adhered to the egalitarian spirit of the thing, leaving his power-trips at the door. Today, though, a side of his personality had broken through that I'd never really witnessed before. The business side of him, I suppose--the side of him that loved playing dominance games, and showing lesser males where they got off.

From that point of view, Charles needed Steve to acknowledge what he was doing. Needed Steve to understand that it was personal--that however erotic it might be to fuck Jean, it was equally erotic to be taking something this precious from Steve. So, with a calculated jerk of his head, Charles caught his victim's eye. He allowed his glance to sweep down, just for a second, to register Steve's wife, naked and bent over, eagerly impaling herself on another man's cock. Then he reestablished eye-contact, and allowed that thin smile that had been fixed on his face all night to broaden at last into a toothy sneer of victory.

For a split-second, I thought Steve would lunge out of his seat and attack the man. But before he could move, Charles leaned down over Jean's back, circling his hands around her to grab her tits. Then, with a final, exaggerated thrust of Charles's pelvis, a sharp tightening of his glutes, and an evocative twinge of those preternatural testicles of his, Steve's chance to act was lost forever. The deed was done. Another man had begun pouring his semen into Jeannie.

Steve's face crumbled as he grasped what was happening. I don't think I've ever seen a more pathetic sight, and I was a little worried he'd break into tears. He managed to hold it in, though, and instead just sat there--small and rigid, unable to look away from the unbearable sight of his wife being inseminated.

Nobody else was paying any attention to Steve. As soon as it became clear that Charles was ejaculating, the fans in the cheap seats let out a ragged cheer. Charles kept himself pressed tight up to Jeannie's ass, buried as deep as possible, hips jerking spasmodically as he released each new gush of sperm. Savoring every part of it, the woman went on writhing on his pole in wordless euphoria, grinding her pussy back against him feverishly--head tilted up; eyes squeezed shut; mouth hanging open to draw in huge gulps of air.

They went on like that for quite a while--Jean squirming ecstatically with the passion of the moment; Charles clinching her tight, keeping himself firmly planted in her as he spayed jet after jet of his milky essence into her womb... It was really remarkable how much the man had to give her, but eventually they did begin to slow and quiet.

When, at last, those balls of his finally ran dry, Charles straightened up. Rump still high, Jean allowed her torso to collapse onto the tabletop, breasts squeezed beneath her. Exhausted, she rested the side of her face on the cool surface--eyes closed peacefully, face sweaty, hair scattered and snarled.

Giving her back an affectionate rub, Charles pulled out (still remarkably hard even now). "That was fun," he said, a twist at the corner of his mouth connoting wry understatement. Then he paced easily back toward his spot with Suzanne.

Reclining there, he draped an arm around his wife, teasing her nipple idly with his fingertips. She cuddled up to him, face beaming happily, and gave his rod a light fondle. "Way to go, babe!"

What followed was an awkward pause, where we all sat around, staring at the prostrate form of Jean on the table. She was oblivious to us--breathing heavily, blissfully unaware that with her ass poked up that way, her overstimulated pussy was flung wide for our perusal, cunt gaped to present a moist, inky, obliging hole.

It wasn't very ladylike--certainly not by the standards of someone like Jeannie. And after it had dragged on a bit, I started to get worried. Edging over, I bent down and put a hand on her shoulder blades. "Jean, honey? Are you all right?"

She stirred and looked at me with bleary eyes. "Yeah, I... I'm fine... it was all just, um... so..."

Suzanne chirruped proudly. "He has that effect on the ladies!"

I helped Jeannie rise, still dazed and tottering slightly. As soon as she became vertical, big, sloppy globs of Charles started leaking from her vagina and oozing down her thighs. My den furniture is pretty expendable, but even so, I grabbed a towel from my strategic stockpile as I led her back to her spot, and whisked it in under her before she sat down. When she did, I noticed that Steve and Jean maintained a conspicuous inch or two of upholstery between them.

Now usually on our party nights, there wasn't any big rush to leave after the sexual escapades were finished. But tonight, I needed to process everything that had happened; and I didn't believe anything good would come of tarrying.

"Well folks, that's our show. Let's give Steve and Jean a big hand for being such good sports." Everyone chipped in with a dutiful round of applause, and then I started shepherding people to the door.

Steve and Jean were the last to leave. Neither of them said anything, and Jeannie didn't even bother getting dressed again--just wrapped her overcoat around herself and left it at that. "Call me in the morning," I whispered into her ear, and she nodded.

And... does it make me a very bad person if I admit that later that night, Ben and I had the steamiest intercourse we'd had in a long, long time?

* * * * *

A couple of months later, the three amigos convened again for lunch. It had been a trying time, and we had a lot to talk about.

Even before Jeannie had settled into her seat, I felt it was necessary to commence again with the apologies. "Jean, I just want to say that I never thought... I mean, God, it was so stupid of me! I know I said it before, but I'm so sorry for what happened."

Meanwhile, Donna shot her a wide-eyed, puppy-dog stare that said 'I'm sure Gwen is sorry, but I'm so sorry that my regrets can't even be articulated in words.' She's good at that kind of subtle self-promotion.

Sitting, Jeannie smiled and shrugged. "It wasn't you guys. We're grownups and we made our decisions. And honestly, it may be for the best. Do you want to know a secret?"

We nodded eagerly.

She grinned wider, eyes sparkling. "I'm pregnant! Only Steve knows, so don't tell anyone."

I think our jaws about hit the table. "And that's... good?" Donna fished tentatively. "Steve is the...?"

Jeannie's face clouded slightly. "Well, there's no way of knowing, is there?"

You see, the weeks after the casino night had been a roller-coaster for the couple. And, as Jean's support system, Donna and I felt we'd lived through it ourselves.

That first night, they'd had a knock-down, drag-out marital shouting match, airing all the grievances of a decade or more. Then--the way couples sometimes do--they set the vitriol aside, packed the kids off to school, called in sick, and spent the entire day screwing.

The next week or so, they appeared to be reconciled, and went on having sex a couple of times a night, like a pair of horny rabbits. Then, another eruption--Steve's insecurities bubbled out, and he accused her of secretly wanting Charles and arranging the whole thing. Blah blah blah, he stormed out, and stayed at a motel for 10 days, before finally slinking home.

Since then, as far as I knew, they'd had something like normalcy. But I really wasn't sure where things stood. And, being a blunt individual, I wasn't about to pussy-foot around the obvious question. "So, how does Steve feel about the pregnancy?"

She pursed her lips. "You know, things have been a lot better between us. This blowup has finally gotten him to agree to see a couples' councilor, and I think it's really helping. Also, he faced up to what life would be like without me and Theo, and he didn't like it much. He says he wants to make it work--that he'll be a father to the baby no matter whose it is. I believe him. Plus, I told Steve if it is from Charles, then I'd give him another chance to father a baby down the road. If he wants."

I wasn't totally buying this. "Yeah, but... I mean, if little John or Jane comes out with caramel skintones and almond eyes, do you really think he'll...?" Donna scowled at me disapprovingly, but I shrugged her off. The thing needed to be asked.

Jean wrinkled her brow thoughtfully. "There's no way to know until it happens. I think he'll step up, but men are unpredictable." Then she brightened. "The thing is, either way I'll be ok. And despite all the messiness, I'm kinda glad the issue got forced, you know? Really, I'm just so thrilled about the pregnancy. I've been wanting it for so long. So, yeah--I hope Steve doesn't flake. But if he does, well, then I'll still have my two wonderful babies. And between my salary, alimony from Steve, and child-support from Charles, I'll land on my feet."

I had to admit, there was a kind of serenity and confidence to Jeannie these days that I didn't remember her having before. I was glad--she's such a great person, and she deserves more happiness than life tends to dish out to her.

Anyway, her positive attitude was contagious. Setting our worries aside, Donna and I forewent the daquiris we'd been anticipating, and ordered chocolate shakes all round instead.

Later during the appetizers, when there was a lull in the conversation, Jeannie glanced up at us with a twinkle. "So, are you two still having your raunchy parties?"

We blushed. "Uh... yeah," Donna confessed at last. "Featuring a lot less drama, let me add."

"I hope you don't feel left out," I put in. "I mean, we didn't think it would be a good idea to ask..."

Jean smirked. "Yeah, that was probably for the best."

"But, you know, if you do ever want to come again. Like, maybe after the baby..."

She squinted. "Well, I did have fun with Charles. It wasn't romantic, exactly, but... God the intensity, right?! To be honest, it was the hottest sex I ever had in my life. ... Even so, I don't think it's really my style. And definitely not Steve's."

Donna nodded. "Of course."

"Still," Jean added with a wink, "I wouldn't mind living it vicariously. So--how about you two just step up and give me the play-by-play?"

* * * * *

END

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