In the three months prior to their marriage, Craig had discovered what a particularly hot potato he had on his hands in Carrie Winslow, a successful fashion model. Given the wild eroticism of his hours with Carrie, her uninhibited and imaginative sexuality, her joy in carnal experimentation, he just knew he had to be married to her. He ignored the idea that such rampant craving might be difficult to contain.

During eighteen months of marriage, Carrie had begged to be indulged in many erotic games. Naked chasing, or hiding, around the house and, in warmer weather, the enclosed garden. Whoever won got to choose the route to ultimate climax. Or, she suggested, “The finger-tip game. See who cums first under the stimulation of just one finger.

That was a game that she always deliberately lost, although, for Craig, it was a very fine line between winning and losing.

Carrie enjoyed a timing phase when she asked Craig to put a stopwatch on how fast she could orgasm, as he sucked and tongued her nipples. They never got a clear time on that, but as Craig told her, “Whatever the time, it was bloody fast.”

She giggled, “Touchy tits.”

She was delighted with another time-test they did when Craig, fingering her clit from cold (which it never was), could bring on an orgasm in four minutes, but that could be cut to one or two minutes when tongue and lips were involved.

Those eighteen months were sheer bliss and there were times when Craig would go into work and have colleagues remark, "You look as though you've had a bad night," when in fact he'd had a fantastic night shafting Carrie several times.

Much later, Craig would try to define just when and in what order the changes came about. Changes in Carrie's attitude, changes in his belief in her, and, more than anything, changes in his own thinking.

A weird inexplicable change took place in his own psyche. Having her heaving under him, or over him, her face a mask of lust, brought about, somewhere deep in his subconscious, a curiosity to watch her in action with another man.

With another man? That should have been was unthinkable. But as the idea grew, he gradually realized that Cassie was decreasingly less receptive to his advances. It started with, 'not feeling well.' He had always respected her period time, but this was different. Then came her apologies because she had 'a late-evening shoot.' Some evenings, she said she needed a sleeping tablet after a hard day's modeling. "They're very mild. You could wake me if you were really desperate."

He did wake her once, and it was easy, but her reactions to his touches were lethargic and, yes, almost disinterested. After that, on the occasions when she'd taken a tablet, Craig would sit on the edge of the bed, with a deepening suspicion. Those 'late-night shoots', what were they really?

Rather than being filled with total anger at the thought that she was getting it somewhere else, the idea glowed warmly in the back of his mind. What would it be like to watch her screwing another man?

Initially, he could hardly bear the idea, but as time went on, and her cooler attitude continued, the idea developed greater appeal. Would it be exciting to watch?

His brain developed a new, thriving department, and from wondering how he would talk her into it, the fact that she was cheating on him made the idea of having the situation thrust upon her without any warning became more appealing. Yes, if she was playing away, would that be justice or spiteful vengeance?

The notion of who and how played in his mind. He had no wish for her to undergo any rough treatment, although he guessed that an initial fear was unavoidable. His good mate, Arch, who worked for a shipping company, came readily to mind. Big, dark, smiling Arch had been his friend since school days and they had gone on meeting roughly twice a month for a drink.

His friend had met Carrie, and Craig knew exactly how he felt about her. On one drunken night, he had told Craig, "By the gods, Craig, you are a lucky bastard. That Carrie, the way she sways - how can you keep your hands off her?"

"I don’t, and that’s the way she likes it,” had been Craig’s laughing response.

”She's a real goer, I'll bet." Arch’s drunken comment did not affect Craig’s reaction to the offer he was about to make.

The whole thing needed much thought. There could be no recognition. All gently done, with no element of threat. Slowly, his plan evolved. Make it look like a break-in, and he'd be tied to a chair. Ideal. But, for authenticity, one guy couldn't manage that alone, could he? Two guys with Carrie? That thought quickly gathered momentum. How would that strike her? In Craig’s cavorting mind it was becoming very appealing.

Craig was pleased with the look on Arch's face when he put the idea to his friend. He started by telling Arch of his suspicions about Carrie, and about her cooling off.

"Couldn't imagine her being so bitchy."

Craig told his friend of his dream of watching her with another man. All the time he spoke, Arch's eyes widened. Craig told him how some kind of mask would disguise any recognition.

"But how could there be recognition?"

"If it was you giving it to her."

For a moment, Craig thought Arch would fall off his chair. His face went pink, then scarlet, his jaw dropped, and his dark eyes bulged. He licked his lips before asking, "You want me to—to feel, to screw Carrie? You are kidding me?"

“I need someone I can trust.” Craig shrugged, "Of course if you don't want to—"

Arch growled, "Christ, Craig, I'd pay for the privilege. But does she know what you're planning?"

Craig went on to describe his plan to make it look like a break-in and he would need to look as if he was a forced spectator. Arch knew that meant more than on "Have somebody come with you to tie me up, you know. I've got to be the innocent."

Arch only had to think for a moment, "Well, there's Rusk, he's a good kid."

Craig vaguely remembered meeting Rusk, a tall amiable black man. Craig tried to lower his excitement level. Wow, the very idea of seeing black hands on her pale breasts, and more, a black prick shoving into Carrie. He had to check his thinking then, reminding himself that it had started out as simply curiosity.

By the time they had it all set up, they had agreed that if Carrie struggled so much that it began to look like real assault they'd just leave. Arch, all avid now, said he'd get balaclava masks and agreed to change the pitch of his voice to ensure there was no recognition.

Craig said he would leave the rear garden door unfastened, and he had already decided that he'd wait until an evening when Carrie took a sleeping pill. That way, the first part could be accomplished easily. If Arch would stand by and await his call they'd take it from there.

Hell, had he really set it up? Was he really going to watch two men humping his wife? One of them being black was just an added step into the unknown. The very thought of it had his prick twitching. He'd had no idea it could have this effect on him.

The next day, Craig received a call from Arch, "I don't want to complicate this for you, Craig, but when I talked to Rusk he told me he had his cousin staying with him at the moment. Just a year younger than Rusk—a big guy. Rusk wondered if his cousin could come along too. Maybe just to watch."

God, three! Still, it could make being restrained more convincing, so he agreed. His mind was a morass of anticipation and doubt. He'd been aggrieved at Carrie's loss of warmth, but was he taking his original desire too far?

The very next night came another "late-night shoot" when she arrived home "too tired to talk." She declared that she had such a terrible headache, "I just have to take a sleeping tablet." And Craig's breath shuddered in his chest as he knew that it was the time to set his plan in action.

She glided nonchalantly out of the bathroom, totally naked, and slipped her lacy thin nightdress over her head. Craig, wearing only his customary pyjama pants, sat bare-chested on the edge of the bed. Carrie moved around the bed and leaned forward to deliver him a warm kiss, but when he reached for her, she backed away.

"I'll be asleep in two minutes," she whispered.

Craig watched as she climbed into bed and pulled the thin duvet over her. He was thinking, not spitefully, "It may be a disturbed sleep."

Without moving from his side of the bed, he waited until he heard that familiar soft snoring that sleeping tablets usually produced. Standing, he picked up his cell phone and slipped into the bathroom to dial Arch’s number, confident that Carrie would never hear him.

Arch came on almost immediately as though aware that this was to be his lucky night.

"All set, Arch. She's out for the count."

"You're sure of this, Craig?"

"Just get here."

"I'll call the others to get here quick. With you in thirty minutes. Okay?"

As he closed his phone, Craig glanced at his watch. It was spot on eleven. Little butterflies fluttered in his stomach. Was he going to regret this somehow? Too late to have doubts, and really the desire to watch her putting it about was as strong as ever.

He began pacing the bedroom nervously, positioning a chair close to the bed in the best viewing point, giving him a slight shudder of excitement. He lowered the lights, ensuring that there would be just enough for him to follow the action. Thirty minutes was going to drag. He wanted to get it all going.

When he heard the familiar click then squeak of the back door, he was surprised. Glancing at his watch he saw that it was just short of eleven fifteen. Arch had made good time.

As arranged, he moved out into the darkened landing, where he would go through the act of being overpowered. In the dim light, the three figures were mounting the stairs in line, and even in the dark, in spite of the strange masks, they were wearing he could see that Arch, having his white hand on the bannister was bringing up the rear.

Not sure whether the leading figure was Rusk, Craig moved to the top of the stairs, expecting to be imprisoned. What he wasn't expecting was the fist that caught him in the solar plexus, driving the breath out of him, and doubling him up.

The blow had not been too severe, but neither was it part of the script. "Hey," he was just able to grunt, "there's no—" His words were cut short by a length of duct tape being stuck across his mouth. Arch was overplaying his hand here.

Other hands grabbed him, still woozy from the blow, and he was bundled into the bedroom, He was flung onto the chair and duct tape quickly fastened his hands to the arms of the chair.

Very annoyed, Craig looked towards the tall figure of Arch, who growled, in a brilliantly disguised voice, "Sorry about that. Just be a good boy and watch."

Willing to accept the way things had gone so far, if not quite what he'd expected, Craig tried to calm himself as he watched Rusk and his cousin move to opposite sides of the bed. He couldn't tell which was which because of their masks, and all three men were in black T-shirts and black pants.

These were two big guys who had been well able to carry Craig into the bedroom. Now, the one on his side of the bed grabbed the duvet and flung it back. "This must be the honey pot you were talking about." They all stared down at Carrie sleeping on her back, the flimsy nightie hardly hiding the push of her breasts, and the dark triangle.

"That's her, I guess," Arch growled, from the foot of the bed. Strange thing for him to say. He had one knee on the bed as though eager to climb on board. Craig could just imagine how he would be feeling right now.

"We need a better view," the black guy nearest to Craig said, and he grabbed the neck of Carrie's nightie and pulled. So thin, it tore away like spider silk. Carrie lay exposed to hungry eyes, and Craig could not avoid a sense of guilt.

"I can't wait to get into that," said the one opposite Craig.

The one nearest to him wafted a twitching hand over her mound, "Wow, can't wait for a mouthful of that hairy pie."

At that moment, Carrie's eye opened wide. Craig wasn't sure whether it had been the ripping of her nightie or the lusting voices that had woke her up. As she gathered her senses, her eyes glanced around wildly, taking in the three masked men, and then seeing Craig tied up.

That seemed to be the trigger, and a brief scream escaped her lips as she started to rise. Immediately, the guy on Craig's side pressed a hand over her mouth, while his other hand clutched her upper arm to hold her down. The guy opposite applied the same pressure to her other arm. Black hands vivid against her white skin.

Craig could see the anger in Carrie's eyes, as Arch began speaking, "Now, we're not—“ He got no further as Carrie's foot lashed out in his direction, and she heaved against her two captors, who had to apply great pressure to hold her down.

Craig was beginning to have early pangs of guilt. This wasn’t how he’d envisaged it. Not at all.

Arch did not try to hold her legs and for several minutes the four men, including Craig, watched fascinated as Carrie's legs and lower body thrashed, twisted, and flayed. Her hips jerked up and sideways, her legs kicked up and out, her belly heaved.

God, Craig couldn't help thinking, despite all they'd done together, it was one of the most erotic sights he had ever seen.

Arch's eyes bulged as he watched, and Craig realised that from his angle, he would be looking into the pink, winking eye of her secret places. If eyes were bulging, Craig could see that the front of three pairs of black cotton pants jutted out even more strongly. Then, slightly abashed, Craig discovered that Carrie's thrashing body had had a similar effect on his own pyjama pants.

By the time Carrie's angry efforts had all but exhausted her, and she lay relatively quiet, her tired legs slightly parted. That gave Arch the chance to kneel between them, just about level with her ankles, and he spread her legs wider. He nodded to the one with his hand over her mouth and said, "Let her breathe."

Craig appreciated Arch's concerns even though he was about to reap the wild benefits. Carrie drew in welcome breaths through her mouth before she panted determinedly, "There's no way I'm going to let you take me." Her head looked from side to side, "None of you."

Her eyes rested on Craig, and she said, "I'm so sorry, Craig." She would never know how bad her apology made him feel. She sounded so genuine that, for a second or two, he was near to calling the whole thing off. Already, there were a couple of elements that he hadn't liked. But as the thought came, so did the action.

Arch was kneeling up straight, as he replied to Carrie's statement, "Quite honestly, I'm sure you could enjoy this."

Having said his piece, Arch immediately bent and buried his face between her thighs, and Craig had a brief view of his tongue raking along her crevice, as his hand slid under her buttocks to lift her. Arch's tongue lingered at her opening before moving on to tickle her anus.

Carrie's eyes had widened at Arch's first movement, and her breath shuddered in her throat. Then Arch was moving his tongue back through her pink petals and with pounding heart, Craig could guess that he must be onto her clit. Oh, hell, it could be countdown time.

A black hand from either side stroked her breasts, shockingly vivid on her pale skin. With their free hands, the two unzipped their pants, and quickly two long, thick black cocks were pointing at Carrie's head like threatening guns.

Craig suddenly recognized that abandoned look on Carrie's face when he paid special attention to her clit. Her mouth was gaping, lips trembling, and those green eyes blinked rapidly.

It was like watching a film when you knew what would happen next. Arch had been tonguing her clit for just over a minute. Craig reflexively started to play the countdown game, deciding Arch had started her 'from cold' with a typical time to completion of four minutes. Excitedly he bet himself whether Arch could make her quicker. Two minutes? Three? He was about to find out.

Just as he suspected, and catching Arch totally unawares and ill-prepared, Carrie squealed, "Give it to me, you bastard. Fuck me."

Arch hastily fumbled with his zip and before he could do anything else, Carrie's hand had scrambled inside his fly to produce his generous clock. As she pulled him towards her entry, she swung her head to one side, and her open desperate mouth engulfed the erect black prick on her left.

The fact that it was black made no difference to her fierce demand. That guy grunted at the wild sucking and tonguing that followed. Craig was wishing he could see the look on his face as he looked down in apparent amazement before throwing his head back registering the pleasure of it

Craig knew well that Arch’s friend wouldn't have that joy for long, for Arch began delivering hefty strokes into Carrie and her mouth opened wide, her hips thrust up at him and her head began to wildly flail side to side, twisting away from the black prick. The oh-so-familiar seagull squawks told him that, without any doubt, she was in the throes of an early orgasm.

Arch drove up into her, "Are you cumming already?" he gasped. His buttocks quickened their motion.
"Ooh, yes. Don't stop," Carrie cried, and Craig felt a wave of resentment that she was giving herself so readily. The nearest guy left off stroking her right breast and began plucking her nipple. Fascinated, Craig watched as the guy who had been deprived of a blowjob tried to grab Carrie's head back in his direction. Something explosive was about to happen.

She resisted as Arch, obviously unable to ignore what Carrie's climaxing muscles were doing to his prick, gave an almost anguished moan and pushed heavily against her, so hard that her whole body was moved up the bed.

Craig was so involved with the various explorations of Carrie's body, that he was shocked to find that his erect cock had now poked out of his pyjamas. Surely, he shouldn't be enjoying watching his woman being treated in this way. Guilty or not, there wasn't much he could do about it.

What was happening now was sure to be exciting because the guy nearest him was bending to lick at her nipple. At the same time, Carrie screamed at Arch, "Don't stop. Keep it up me."

But it was clear that Arch was easing back as his fading erection began to slip out of Carrie's passage. The look on her face was just about indescribable. Her eyes bulged, her lips fluttered, her hands reached out to the black cocks on either side of her.

"You get here," Arch ordered the guy on the far side, "Hell, I thought she might be hot, but she's unbelievable."

Craig thought Arch might look in his direction when he said that, but it was as though Craig didn't exist. From the far side, the guy freed his cock and eagerly moved to take Arch's place. Immediately, Carrie was almost screaming at him, "In me. Get in me. Do it."

This guy placed his black hands on her thighs, and he hesitated before hissing at Arch,

"Your fucking stuff is pouring out of her."

Carrie was clearly reacting to the action on her nipples, and her hand was trying to reach down for him, "Fuck me. Do it, now!"

"Better cool her down—and quick," Arch suggested, and Craig was sure there was a slight smile on his lips.
Reluctantly, the long black prick slid slowly into Carrie's heaving hole, a menacing black shaft lodged in her pinkness. Craig's erection twitched. But already Carrie's head was beginning to sway again, her hips bucked up to meet this fresh invasion.

Her new lover gave up making it a slow entry and with one forceful thrust his pubic hair mixed with hers. Carrie screamed, "Ooh, God, that's so long. Gorgeous." And instantly she was away, all seagull sounds and gasps as a powerful orgasm ripped through her while the startled guy was just starting his serious humping.

Craig could see that the black guy near him had begun to rub his prick head against her nipple. Arch had gone into the en-suite, and, with space and freedom, this guy clambered astride Carrie so that he could press her breasts around his enormous cock, tit-fucking her twitching and heaving body.

Even though Carrie was in a state of constant orgasm, she eagerly tongued the purple mushroom head sawing through her cleavage. The guy murmured, "Oh, yes, baby. And wait until this one gets up your precious hole."

Arch came out of the en-suite clutching a towel, which he flung onto the bed, just as the guy fucking Carrie began to succumb to her lascivious body movements. Each thrust became harder, faster and more vicious than the one before and Carrie cried out as the fast beat of his buttocks told Craig that he was pouring it into her.

This wasn’t at all what he’d expected at the outset. One guy had been the intention. Then it was two. Now, here were three lusty men giving his wife obvious pleasure. Shouldn't he feel jealous, seeing her enjoy this treatment? But no, his own prick was throbbing like some mad thing, and the frustration he felt was totally unexpected.

Now, Arch was pushing the other guy away from Carrie's breasts. "Keep yourself hard. You're nearly due down there."

Rolling away, the big guy growled hungrily, "And this’ll be the best she’s had all day.”

"Big Head," Arch laughed, as he straddled Carrie's breasts. Craig thought he was aiming to do what the other guy had done, but instead he slid forward so that he was leaning right over Carrie, with his newly rising erection right over her face. His arms took his weight beyond her head.

Distracted by the action at her head, Craig now saw that at her other end the guy was beginning to sit back, his long limp prick dripping cum.

"I want more," Carrie cried out, a note of desperation in her voice. “Is this the best you guys can do?”

Hell, Craig was worrying. Was she genuinely teasing them?

The one Arch had called Big Head was already pushing his mate aside. His massive black cock jutted out, but he was pulling his pants way down to step out of them as he boasted, "Now, you're really going to like this."

He had climbed between Carrie's legs before grunting his disgust, "Ugh, a river of cum."

"Use the fucking towel," Arch snapped at him, and at the same time, pointing his semi-erect prick down over Carrie's face, he edged it slowly into her mouth which was opening and closing like a grounded fish.

Instantly Carrie's lips fastened around it. Arch took a deep breath and leaned more closely over her face. God, Craig thought, he must be halfway down her throat. He was certainly making the most of his chance.

Meanwhile, the towel had been rubbed thoroughly in and around Carrie's crevice, and Big Head was pressing his face deep into her remaining wetness. What would happen now? The deliberate licking, front to back, slowed and centred near the front. Carrie's clit!

She would go crazy.

Craig began to fear she'd choke since Arch's erection was blocking her mouth. Her hips had begun to heave, causing the guy between her thighs to lean back and look in obvious amazement at the flexing of her whole lower region. The sounds coming from her mouth suggested that she was holding it wide open despite Arch's prick. Another climax, but prevented from voicing it, her hands pushed at his hips.

"What the hell—?" Arch moaned, but he had eased back, and Carrie's freed voice screamed out, "In me!"

What she didn't know was that the one who had licked her into yet another orgasm already had his rampant penis poised at her soaked entry. "Here it comes, Baby. Just as promised."

Craig watched as those buttocks heaved up mightily, and he knew that Carrie was taking the full length of this massive rod all in one thrust. For the second time her whole body was pushed up the bed. If he could imagine the look on this bastard's face it had to be one of triumphant lust.

Fortunately, Arch, probably disgruntled, had rolled off Carrie's chest, and Craig was able to see in her face how she was taking this latest entry. At first, her mouth had twisted as though in surprised agony, but then her lips parted, and he could tell she suppressed a gurgling scream, before she managed worryingly, to provoke Big Head, “Is that all you’ve got?”

But Craig could see her expression of ecstasy even as she teased, "Yes, oh yes. I suppose I’ll—ugh—have to make do with small mercies—"

Craig felt so proud of her. Yes, she was being pleasured but didn’t want to transfer that to their masculinity. But the guy fucking her looked angry.

He pushed his arms under her knees and lifted her legs onto his shoulders. Now he appeared able to drive even deeper into her. Cassie’s mouth gaped as spittle ran from one corner down her chin. Was she gasping or sobbing?

The other two were just standing watching in some amazement, as Carrie's face grimaced at the suppression of her obvious rapture.

"Hell, she's non-stop," the inactive black guy said, although one hand was tracing over Carrie's left breast.

Craig was fearing that Big Head’s anger might make him hurt her. But now, he was emitting hollow grunts while continuing to give might long thrusts into the very core of Cassie, which told Craig that Carrie’s vaginal muscles had begun to work on him. When he came, it was with a mighty roar and a series of massive lunges.

Carrie's head was pushed against the bed head as she gasped, "Nearly a bronze medal, but not quite."
As he collapsed over her, Big Head gave a snarling retort, "Be honest, lady, your cunt , as never had anything like that.”

“I got stung by a gnat down there once.”

Bravo, baby, Craig was thinking. But please be careful.

Slowly, the impressively long black tool, dripping and drooping slid out of Carrie, who somehow managed, to overlay her stimulation with a look of contempt. The masked face loomed close to hers as he said, "Want to lick me clean?"

“I’d rather suck a toilet brush!

Before anyone else could respond, Arch said, "Clean yourself in the bathroom like we have."

"But this babe will go all night," he protested but went into the en-suite. While he was in there the other black guy said something quietly to Arch, and Arch nodded.

The guy moved towards Carrie and asked, "Would you sit on the edge of the bed, please?" All very polite.

"Are we finished?" Carrie asked as she placed her legs over the side of the bed. Was there an edge of superiority in her voice?

"Nearly," Arch replied, fingering his cock from a semi-erect state, as Big Head came out of the en-suite. His black mate said something to him, and he smiled and began playing with his flaccid cock.

The three stood in a semicircle around where Carrie was seated, and Craig had no doubt what was going to happen next. Sure enough, Arch stepped up close to her, and said, "Thank you for a delicious evening, ma'am. Could you just oblige us with a goodnight suck?"

Momentarily, Carrie looked back to where Craig was sitting, and he wondered if that was a worried expression on her face. Then she turned back and licked at the purple head on Arch's prick before taking the whole thing into her mouth. Craig could see her cheeks concave as she sucked avidly.

Carrie's hands reached out to grip the two black pricks, an action which quickly brought them to full erection. She moved her mouth away from Arch’s cock and took the other two, one after the other, making it appear, for all the world, as though she was inflating the hardened masses.

For the next minute or two, she traversed her mouth between each erection. Craig watched her avid actions, guiltily aware that his own prick was rigidly pointing upwards.

He couldn't take his eyes off the proceedings, knowing how skilful she was at blowjobs. As she concentrated on each of the three cocks fucking her face, Craig could see Carrie's throat pulsing as she swallowed each load.

When it came to Big Head, Craig feared he might choke her with his thrusts, but, even he was genuinely gasping as his ejaculation poured down into her stomach.

All done, the three men fastened up their pants, as Carrie lay back on the bed, causing Big Head to groan, "Look at her. She could fuck all night, I'll bet."

"No, we're leaving now," Arch insisted, and pulled him towards the door. At that moment, the other black guy looked towards Craig, "Hell, look what he's got there. A real boner."

It was as though they had forgotten about his presence, and Arch looked now and nodded, "Let's give him a little treat." The others nodded, and they moved back to where Carrie was sitting up, a look of surprise on her face.

Oh, hell, were they going to start on her again? But as he watched, the three of them picked Carrie up from the bed and Craig noticed that certain black hands were copping an extra feel. As they carried her round the end of the bed, they turned her so that she was face down, and to his complete amazement, set her down on her knees between his thighs.

A hand pushed her face was right over his throbbing prick. She had time to look up and her green eyes showed only desire for him before her mouth drew him clear to the back of her throat.

"Thank you, lady. You have been fucked by the Pussy Pleasers." In sheer ecstasy, Craig wasn't sure who spoke, and he just thought it was a strange thing to say. He was joyfully looking down at that wonderful mouth active on him at last, when he heard the door close behind them.

Craig could not recall when Carrie had sucked him so lovingly, so forcefully, but this time it just felt so special. Carrie sucked, traced his penis head along the inside of her cheeks, rolled her tongue over and around it. The whole treatment.

As she blew him, her hand moved up blindly to reach his mouth and pull the tape away, then immediately worked at the tape holding his wrists to the arms of the chair. "Oh, Carrie," he moaned, knowing that her actions were bringing him to a rapid climax.

Craig reached down, and ran his hands lovingly over her face, as it moved backwards and forwards in progressively determined lunges around his prick. Almost without warning, his seed was bursting from him and Craig thought he would never stop spilling down her throat.

At last, he softened and Carrie gave a final lick to his limp penis head as it slipped from her mouth. Smacking her lips, she placed her hands on his knees, looked up at him and murmured, "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?"

"That you had to see that. See me with—"

Craig drew her up until she was sitting on his knee, and his hands rested on her bare thighs. "You looked scared—at first anyway. And towards the end, you were marvellous. So brave," he said, unwilling to commit himself too much

"Those horrible masks—and just breaking in like that. We might have been murdered, " she shuddered at the thought and buried her face in his neck.

"Was it so bad for you?"

She looked directly into his eyes, as she replied, "I don't know how you'll take this—but I have to be honest with you." She drew in a deep breath before going on, "Three men at one time, oh, I’ve had fantasies about that, but I've never even taken two. I'd no idea it could be like that. I was in an almost constant orgasm."

This was exactly what he expected, but she had been completely open about it. "So, you were alright?"

"Oh, Craig, it was marvellous." Her eyes blazed, alive with the memory of it. “But I didn’t like the idea of them thinking they were that good.”

"So, you made your comments, although you really liked it?"

"I told you, I’ve had fantasies."

Craig knew that this could be the crunch. If she had enjoyed the attentions of three men so much what could he do?

Carrie was sliding off his knee, "I must have a shower," she said. "Then I'll come back to you all nice and clean." She started across the bedroom but stopped and turned back to him and said, "I hope it didn’t hurt you, having to watch."

Craig might have told her some truth, but maybe later. Then she was away, and he heard the shower running. The incident was sure to keep her demands high. Other things had been troubling him about the whole episode. Arch had hardly acknowledged him, and what about that punch in the gut, and the tape over his mouth? They weren't in the original plan.

Just then his cell phone rang and picking it up he saw that it was Arch.

"Arch, what the—"

Arch's voice broke in, "Hell, Craig, I'm sorry I couldn't stop them. Was it bad for Carrie?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"That cousin of Rusk's I told you about. Stupid bastard bragged in a bar that he was going on a threesome. Only he was talking to the wrong people. A group, who force themselves on women. Call themselves the Pussy Pleasers. You heard of them?"

Craig flinched, "I have now."

"They came around to my place and locked us in my cellar. Only let us go after. Hell, I was so looking forward to—you know?"

Craig took a deep breath, "Yes, I do know. Well, listen to me very carefully—"

They spoke for another few minutes and Craig was just closing his phone when Carrie came back, naked, looking so sexy. "Who were you talking to?"

Craig held out his arms for her. She came eagerly and it was a marvel to feel those thrusting breasts against his bare chest once more.

"Were you really serious about enjoying such attention?"

"You know me, Craig. I have these weak points. With three—they're easily hit."

Craig tried to put on an uncertain expression, "If you really liked it, I've been trying to fix another session for you."

Craig hoped he'd been clever enough to keep any awkward questions at bay and it was great to get her reaction as her arms tightened around him. "Are you serious?"

"Would you mind if I was one of the three?"

She kissed him avidly before saying, "Oh, Craig, I’ll only do it if you are one of the three. You know exactly what I like. But who else would be here?"

"Well, you know Arch?"

"Oh, yes, Arch might be nice—and he's big, I'll bet."

"He has a best mate Rusk, he's black—"

Carrie's green eyes glowed with undisguised lust, "Black men seem to have the right equipment—you, Arch and this Rusk. Wow! Could you set it up? Such fun." She said as her hand reached down for his rising cock.

"I'll try for Saturday night, and no masks," Craig said, knowing it was already arranged

"That would be great, and deserves some reward," she whispered, grabbing my head and pulling it down to her breasts. "And, of course, we can still have our little private sessions, like now.".

Craig went along with her immediate reward knowing that, from now on, if he wanted to hold on to Carrie, he had to accept this massive change in both their lives. With personal sessions, it might really be a good move.