My thanks to Popprinpear for her comments and suggestions on the story line.
The unusual events of the previous Saturday had been followed by some honest conversation and some of the best sex Monica and I had enjoyed in several years. We had gone to the bedroom Saturday afternoon, had a wonderfully energetic and passionate round of sex and rested a bit before having dinner. After dinner, the fires were banked a bit but were still burning warmly enough that we retired earlier than we normally do. The previous vigorous sex gave way to tender and passionate lovemaking. After our 12 years of marriage the bedroom patterns we had established seemed to have been set aside, at least temporarily, and the freshness of the afternoon's events with Monica's girlfriends inspired us to a lustful expression of our deep love for each other. Relaxing in each other's embrace, we slept soundly and very contentedly.
The next morning we resumed our weekend routine with breakfast on the patio, taking it easy and reading the Sunday paper. This was followed by some "true confession" time where we reaffirmed our love and trust for each other; shared that we had both enjoyed the Saturday episode, edgy as it was; and we were both excited by it and open to see where it could lead. I told Monica that it was unusual being in the position of seeming not to have control of the events but that I had, in fact, been pretty excited being exposed to her friends the way I was. Monica confessed that she really liked being in charge and having her instructions followed.
The week followed with more sexual encounters than had been our recent norm, although we didn't break any new ground with our activities. On Friday, Monica asked if I planned on being home the next day. The inventory project we had going at work could use a few extra hours so I planned on going in for the morning again but I assured her that I would be home in the afternoon.
Saturday morning at the office went well and I was home about 1:00, changed and cut the lawn. While I was doing that the same group of Monica's friends came over and the four of them were drinking wine on the patio again. They all smiled and said a friendly 'hello' as I went into the house to shower and change. No sly grins, no double-entendres or innuendo.
When I got out of the shower I found that Monica had laid out some clothes on the bed. A pair of shorts and a golf shirt. And a note on top of them: "No underwear, Dave." This could be interesting, I thought.
Downstairs I poured myself a glass of wine, half thinking I might need it, and joined the ladies who had now moved into the family room. We sat and chatted while we sipped, and since they were all fully dressed rather than in bathing suits, I figured I could not get into too much trouble. Nevertheless remembering last Saturday, I tried to keep my eyes above neck level when I looked at them, and since it was a girl party, I tried not to intrude too much into their conversation.
As I reached the bottom third of my wine, Monica turned and said to me, "Dave, I was telling the girls that you and I had chatted about last week. Would you like to tell us how you feel about it now, with a week's perspective?"
My ears started ringing a bit. I don't enjoy the hot seat and I wasn't really sure how much I wanted to reveal. But then, Monica already had a pretty good idea so I figured I had better come clean. Well, mostly.
"Well," I began, "I was really shocked at what Monica had me do, and embarrassed of course, to be exposed so completely. Surprised, too, that everyone seemed to be interested and no one left in disgust or seemed to be upset."
Jill chimed in, "Dave, girls like sexy situations too, you know. It's just that we usually experience them in private. Seeing you like that was something totally new for us. I think for all of us, it sparked a pretty enjoyable weekend."
"Glad I could help," I replied. "And I guess I have to admit I enjoyed it as well. I know what you mean about the enjoyable weekend too. It was the same for Monica and me. The rest of the week too, for that matter," I added almost under my breath.
Monica said, "Dave isn't being truly accurate I don't think. He really, really enjoyed it. He told me it was the most exciting orgasm he can remember having. Isn't that right, Dave?"
"I did say that, Monica," I confessed.
"Really!" I heard Janet say in a very dry voice. "Is that true, Dave? The best ever?"
I cast my eyes down and whispered, "Yes, the best."
"Oh my," Barbara said. "I'm not sure you should have enjoyed it quite that much."
"I think you're right, Barb," said Monica. "I think it was rather naughty of him to enjoy it so much, especially since I was supposed to be teaching him a lesson about not ogling my friends. Maybe we need to re-think our approach."
I looked at the women and saw them all nodding. I started to feel sweat forming on my brow and quickly finished my wine.
"David," said Monica, (I noticed it was not 'Dave' any more and I knew what that meant) "stand up and undress. I am sure you remember how this goes."
Honestly, I was a jumble of emotions. Excited, nervous, already embarrassed even though I was still fully dressed (if you don't count the missing underwear). I wanted to run and hide. I wanted to stand up and be naked in front of these women. I wanted to trust Monica. I looked into her eyes and saw firmness and excitement but also love, so I knew it was OK. I stood and followed instructions. First my shirt was laid on the chair, then I unclasped my shorts, unzipped and took them off, adding them to the shirt.
"Come stand in the middle of the room, David," said Monica. When I had done so she continued "Now put your hands on your head and close your eyes. Don't open them until I tell you."
A few seconds later I heard some rustling and some footsteps. I guessed they had gotten to their feet, and I could tell the women were on all sides now.
"Don't move, David, and make sure your hands stay on your head. Understood?" Monica asked from my left. I nodded. "Good," she said. Now we are going to play 'Monkey in the Middle'. Want to guess who the monkey is?" I had a pretty good idea on that.
Suddenly it felt like my left buttock was on fire and I heard a loud smack at the same time. My eyes popped open and I jerked my hands down to my ass.
"I didn't think you could keep your hands up, David, but I think now that you know what to expect, you can try again," said Monica. "But you can keep your eyes open."
Suddenly, I felt the same pain on my right cheek. Then left and right simultaneously. I looked at Jill who was standing in front of me and noticed a ping-pong paddle in her right hand. I was getting a paddling!
The blows began to rain down fast and furious on my backside and although it hurt quite a bit, I began to feel some erotic stirrings. Half knowing what to expect and maybe hoping for some excitement, I had already had the beginnings of an erection. Being treated this way caused a competition between the erotic nature of the situation and the pain I was feeling. Still, the eroticism seemed to be winning and my penis was rising, despite the humiliation of being spanked by four fully clothed women. Of course displaying my arousal so plainly was also pretty humiliating.
After a few minutes of punishment, they stopped swatting me. Maybe their arms got tired, I don't know. I started to relax a bit, but then I felt their hands on me. They were touching my butt that was feeling quite fiery, my back, arms, and stomach. One even knelt to rub the sides of my legs. I glanced down and saw that it was Barbara. Looking at her touching me made me feel a kind of connection with her that I was not expecting. It was almost an intimacy and my excitement combined with this realization made my cock give a little throb and it bounced a bit. This could hardly go unnoticed because she was, after all, kneeling with her face only a few inches from my erect penis.
Barbara let her hand find the inside of my thigh and with each stroke her hand seemed to travel a bit further upward. Apparently Jill was noticing because she whispered to the others "Look, I think Dave is enjoying this too. How kinky is your husband, Monica?"
"Why don't we find out?" Monica replied. "Let's see if he will be naughty for us again."
I had lost count of the hands and was focused only on the touch. I didn't know whose hands were where, but there were more than four hands touching me. With Monica's encouraging remark, the touches became more personal. Barbara slid her hand all the way up, brushing my balls and my reaction sent my cock bouncing even more. Whoever was behind me had their hands on my ass and they started moving their fingers closer to the cleft between my cheeks. One of them probed lower down with her fingers between my legs and rubbing softly, approaching my scrotum from the back.
Another hand, Janet's I think, started touching my right nipple, taking it between her thumb and index finger, squeezing gently at first but increasing the pressure until it started to become unpleasant. But at the same time someone's hand landed on my stomach and slid slowly lower, leaving no doubt in my mind about where it was headed. This had to be Monica so I turned to look. I could hardly believe it when I saw it was Jill looking straight back at me as her hand moved down toward my erect penis and stop without touching it. Then I heard Monica say "Go ahead, Jill."
I heard Jill draw a breath and then she moved her hand taking hold of my hard cock. Jill started to stroke me up and down quite firmly while Janet continued to increase the pressure on my nipple. "Does that hurt, Dave?" she asked.
"Yes it does Janet."
"I can stop if you like, but Jill will stop what she is doing if you tell me to," she said.
This was not fair. To stop the pain in my nipple I had to also give up the pleasurable sensations being applied to my erection. I wanted to stop the hurting in my nipple but I thought I could maybe last for a little longer. Jill's hand was doing amazing things to me, forcing my foreskin to uncover and cover my glans again and again. Unbelievably, it felt almost like lips working on the head of my cock.
Janet and Jill must have been coordinating their actions somehow because when I did not ask them to stop Janet added some twisting to the pinching but Jill started to stroke me faster. At the same time, Barbara took my testicles in her hand and started gently squeezing and massaging them. It was not something I was expecting, but there was no pain involved, just pleasure.
The pain in my nipple was getting more intense and if Jill had not picked up the pace of her stroking I am sure my hard-on would have shriveled away, but she was very skilled in her handjob ability. In the back of my mind I thought about how lucky her husband Roger was to have her hands on his dick whenever they felt like playing. But my foreground thoughts were about this strange mixture of pain and pleasure that was generating a powerful 'approach-avoidance' conflict. Could I stand the continued torture of my nipple? Could I somehow push my body to orgasm and ejaculate before my nipple was pulled right off? Could I maintain my sexual excitement in the face of the pain or should I just call 'Stop!' and end both the misery and the ecstasy? What did the ladies want? Did they want me to cum while feeling the burning in my nipple? To associate the pain with sexual release? What would Pavlov have to say about this?
"Just say 'Stop' Dave, and the pain will end," Monica whispered in my ear. "Of course so will the pleasure. If we stop, you won't be allowed to cum."
"I want to cum," I confessed in a panting voice. "Just make me cum. Please."
It must have been Monica's hand softly stroking my ass, soothing the skin abused by the ping pong paddles earlier. Her touch seemed to convey what she was whispering to me. "Then tell Janet to squeeze harder and Jill will rub you faster. Tell them, Dave. You want this. We can see it. Tell them you want to shoot your semen while we all watch you. Tell us you are a kinky, perverted man who wants your wife and her friends to jack you off while they torture your tit."
"TELL US, Dave. Tell us what you want."
My mind could not figure out what I had to say to who, so I just blurted it out: "Jerk my cock! Make me cum! Hurt my nipple! I want to shoot it! Please..."
The stroking got a bit faster, the grip on my balls got a bit firmer, its massaging more intense and the nipple pinch got a bit harder. The hand on my ass moved to a more central spot and approached my anus, rubbing firmly, probing. My eyes were closed again and I was bending backward slightly, forcing my pelvis forward, straining for resolution.
Monica again: "What will you do to be able to cum, Dave?"
"Please make me cum. I'll do anything!" I gasped.
"Anything? Really!" A pause. "OK, I think we can work with that, can't we, ladies?" I vaguely remember wondering what she was thinking.
The pace picked up even more and I could feel my balls tighten, preparing to fulfill their mission in life. The muscles in my thighs tightened, my buttocks clenched, squeezing Monica's finger between them. I could feel it starting behind my scrotum, the tightening, pulsing almost throbbing as my internal muscles began to push rhythmically, forcing my semen along the tubes. I felt light headed, all my energy concentrated on this one imperative: ejaculate! And I felt it arrive. One. Two. Three major pulses followed by two or three weakening ones as Jill's masterful hand finished its work, milking the last drops of my orgasm out of my cock.
I took a full breath and sighed deeply, relaxing my tensed muscles. As blood flow returned to my brain once again, I realized that unlike last time, I had not used any tissue to catch my ejaculate. I started to worry that one of the ladies might have gotten something on their clothes. But looking down, I saw Jill holding my previously empty wine glass in her left hand, milky white semen running down the side and pooling in the bottom. Lifting her gaze from the glass, she caught my eye and gave me a wide smile. That was good planning, I thought. No difficult-to-explain stains anywhere.
As I started to regain my composure I became more fully aware of what had happened. I had lost control of myself revealing not only my body and my arousal to Monica's friends, but also my willingness to suffer for my pleasure, maybe their pleasure too. I was embarrassed and humiliated, red-faced I am sure and eyes downcast. Jill took my right hand gently and pressed something into it. I glanced down. It was the wine glass.
I heard Monica say, "Dave, please empty the glass."
"OK, Monica," I said and started to turn toward the kitchen.
"No Dave. Empty it here," she corrected.
I stopped and looked at her. "What do you mean?" I asked, afraid of what the answer would be.
"Dave, you seem to think it's no big deal for me to swallow your semen when I give you oral sex. Why should it be a problem for you to do the same?"
"No, Monica. Please don't," I begged.
"You said you would do anything, Dave." She waited a bit then continued, "If you ever want a blowjob again Dave, do it. We want to see you do it. You are a naughty man and this is part of your punishment. It's part of the deal, Dave. If you don't do it this will never happen again. What do you really want?"
This was more than I ever expected. A week ago, being naked in front of these women was unimaginable, let alone masturbating to orgasm for them. And today getting touched, paddled and one of them jerking my cock was definitely more that I had bargained for. But consuming my semen while they watched? That was over the top, wasn't it? But I loved it when Monica took me in her mouth, and she had threatened never to do it again. I did not want that.
I took another deep breath, lifted the glass to my lips and only hesitating a moment, tipped it and let the cum drain into my mouth.
"Swallow it, Dave. You know how much you like it when I swallow it for you."
I did. It was not pleasant but more tolerable than I expected. Sticky, a bit salty, but I managed it. I put the glass down on the table.
I heard Barbara say, "Ladies, I think we should let ourselves out and let Monica and Dave have some time to think about what just happened." There were mumbles of agreement and I heard a chorus of "Thanks, Monica." "Thanks, Dave." "That was very exciting, Dave." "Thanks for the show, Dave." And footsteps, the door opening and closing, then silence.
Monica came and stood in front of me. She looked into my eyes, her gaze tender and concerned, her brow slightly furrowed. "Are you OK, Dave? Are we still OK?"
"I think we are, Monica. I'm just not sure how we got here and less sure of where we are going. But I am OK and we are OK. I love you."
She threw her arms around me, her right hand on the back of my head, and pulled me into a kiss. I felt her lips open and her tongue make its way between my sticky lips. Our tongues met and we could both taste the remnants of what I had so recently consumed, but our eyes closed as we reaffirmed our love in this embrace. Pulling back and catching my eye, she giggled and with a sparkle in both her voice and her eyes said, "Thanks for going along with me, Dave. I didn't really want to make good on my threat of no more blowjobs."