I first saw Dave at my girlfriend Diane’s party. I was twenty-eight and still a virgin. That night, he didn’t even know that I existed. I watched him navigate the floor, chatting with every girl in the place, and many of them were keen to make his acquaintance. But near midnight, when I was plucking up the courage to join a circle at which he was the main attraction, the husband of another woman took umbrage with Dave about him sleeping with his wife. An outraged Dave took the guy outside, and I slipped through the guests to the ranch slider to listen to what was said.

It was a very brief argument. Dave told the guy he wouldn’t fight him and hadn’t slept with his wife. He said he didn’t mess with other men’s wives and would leave so they did not mess up Diane’s party. And so, much to my dismay, he walked down the drive and disappeared into the night. I returned inside and asked Diane about him, as I was intrigued by the man. She said he was nice but had a terrible reputation for chasing the ladies. 

I was very sceptical of any man’s intentions in those days. Being attractive, I got hit on all the time. And in my teens, I saw my brothers and their mates lying, cheating and manipulating girls so they could get into their pants. I knew all their tricks and how to counter them, which was a good part of why I was still a virgin at the tender age of twenty-eight. But that night, Dave had not played any of those games with the women hanging around him and seemed quite content to just talk with anyone and enjoy himself.

I saw him again at another function a few months later, and I managed to catch his eye this time. He asked me out, and we were married a year later. Even though all my girlfriends had warned me about Dave, saying he had had many conquests and would never settle down. 

Nevertheless, we had a great marriage, hardly ever argued, and did most things together. Dave never talked of his past, and I never pushed him to tell. But from time to time, I did hear his friends jibing him about past conquests. So, I was under no illusions about what he had gotten up to before we married.

Dave gave me little cause ever to distrust him. But my scepticism of males and their intentions never left me. And as Dave’s work started taking him away on odd nights, I had some lonely, insecure nights where I imagined the worst. I tried to keep my insecurities to myself, and when they did surface, Dave was always straightforward with me and put my mind to rest. He often told me I had no cause to worry; he was mine and would never stray.

On the night I write about, Dave and I met up with a couple of my old netball friends at a pub in central Auckland. I was horny that night and decided I wanted to dress up. But my wardrobe mainly consisted of loose-fitting, conservative outfits, as can happen to a woman after a few years of marriage. The best I could find was a white top that, if I left a button undone, would show some cleavage and a form-fitting, shortish blue skirt that I had hardly worn as I feared it got me too much attention. 

In the early years of our marriage, I would have gone out with no knickers if Dave had insisted. But being nearly forty, I was a little past that, so I decided on his second favourite fantasy, thigh-high net stockings and the skimpiest panties I owned. The look would have been set off perfectly by my highest-healed shoes, but I chose comfortable, low-healed shoes as I wanted to dance.

I purposely waited until he was in the bedroom with me before I pulled on the stockings and sexy lace lingerie. It made me even hornier seeing the yearning in his eyes at the prospect of what the night might bring. And it took a lot of willpower on both our parts for us to leave for the pub on time.

We had only been at the pub for fifteen minutes when Allison’s husband got a call from their babysitter that their son was not well. The six of them decided to leave as they had all travelled into town in the brother-in-law’s van. Dave and I decided to stay, as we figured if it were as serious as it sounded, we would only be in the way. Also, the prospect of getting home early and diving into the sack may have influenced our decision.

I love dancing. Dave used to, but getting him on the dance floor in recent years has been more challenging. But I was determined to dance his feet off that evening.

Moments after our friends left, two guys came over and asked if they could share our table. As it turned out, Dave knew one of them. And we were soon joined by three more of their friends. Hugh was handsome and engaging, and he was instantly at ease with Dave and me and soon had us smiling at his stories about their old rugby days.

While Dave reminisced with Hugh, his friend Owen asked me to dance. Naturally, I jumped at the opportunity, as Dave had turned me down already.

Owen was a good dancer and entertained me with his jokes and stories. He was very attentive and had me constantly blushing. I had regretted not getting more sexual experience before Dave and I were married, and I sometimes fantasised about what it would be like to have another man. And so I did not as I would have usually to Owen’s flirtatious, indecent comments. Instead, I found them exciting and wickedly arousing.

With Dave watching over me, I felt safe letting this younger, handsome man flirt and tease me. But when we returned to our table, I asked one of the other young men to dance so that Owen wouldn’t think I was an easy score. And, for the next half hour, I enjoyed dancing with all the young guys at our table. Being young and horny, they all flirted with me, accidentally brushing their hands over my breasts and bottom. I found it easy to ward off their advances, and on this particular night, I found their attentions flattering. On any other night, I knew I would have taken offence. I do not understand why this night was different. But I did not dwell on the issue; I was having too much fun.

The last guy I danced with was Hugh. To my disappointment, he was almost fatherly with me, telling me to be careful with his friends as they were a bunch of lotharios. He was handsome, and although I knew I shouldn’t be, I was disappointed he did not flirt and touch me like the others.

After the break, Owen moved in before the others had a chance and whisked me away to dance again. Seeing what his mates had gotten away with, he was even more forward this time. I had a lot more trouble avoiding his wandering hands, and even though I was enjoying the attention, I was conscious about Dave seeing us and getting angry, as he could be pretty possessive at times.

When we returned to the table, Dave’s phone rang, and he said it was work security and he had to go and reset the alarm. He said he wouldn’t be long and asked Hugh to look after me. So I grabbed the least handsy of the young guys and headed back to the dance floor.

I spent the next bracket of songs dancing with everyone except Owen. I did not trust myself with him, especially with Dave being absent. I knew I could keep him at bay, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I found him very attractive and had enjoyed his amorous advances far too much.

But as the band started playing again, Owen had me walk with him to the dance floor before anyone else could ask me. He was much more forward now, hand on my bum as we danced, his finger rubbing in the crack of my arse, and even brushing his hands over my hardened nipples. My erogenous zones were becoming acutely sensitive, and I constantly had to push his hands aside.

Finally, I had to speak, “Owen! Behave yourself. I’m a happily married woman, and although it’s very flattering that you’re interested in me, I’m unavailable. If it’s sex you’re after, I’m sure there’re women here who would like you to take them home.”

“I’m not interested in other women. It’s not sex I’m after. I want to hold you close, dance and laugh with you. I think you are a very sensual woman. You excite and interest me. I want to get to know you better. Besides, why would your husband leave you alone on purpose if he did not expect us all to make a play for you?”

These compliments I had heard many times before, but coming from Owen, they seemed more believable, and my body warmed, and my face reddened in response to his praises. But then I hesitated; had I heard correctly, Dave had left purposefully.

“What do you mean he left on purpose?” I snapped.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry!”

“Elaborate. I want to know why?”

Owen looked uncomfortable, “Your husband has had a bet with Hugh that none of us can get in your pants. It was for $100, so all the boys have been trying to win it. That is not why I have been pursuing you, though. My interest in you has nothing to do with any bet. On the contrary, I genuinely want to get to know you better.”

I was furious. I stiffened up and was ready to storm back to the table, tell the lot of them to stick their bet and hail a taxi.

But Owen held me tight and kept dancing until I had calmed somewhat.

“Raylene!” he whispered, “It’s not that bad. Dave was adamant you would not be unfaithful. You should be happy he has such faith in you that he would leave you alone.”

Men! They have no idea how women think. But I was calming down and thinking things through.

“Where has he gone? Is he here watching us?” And I searched around the bar for him. But there was no sign of him, and I knew I would spot him. He would stand out in what he was wearing.

“No, he’s not here,” Owen exclaimed, “He promised Hugh he would stay away for half an hour. So I’m guessing he is somewhere nearby having a coffee.”

Owen thought he was helping, and he tried to kiss me. I found myself responding, partly because he was a damn good kisser but also because I was annoyed at Dave’s betrayal. Then I realised he was openly pinching my nipples. In horror, I became aware that my bloody body was responding, and I was breathing heavily. Then I noticed couples dancing nearby, staring at where Owen had his hands, so I broke away and left him standing alone as I furiously returned to the table.

I moved alongside Hugh. He put his arm around me and asked what was wrong. I didn’t mention that I knew about the bet, as I was still considering how I felt. I was annoyed, but Hugh was the only one who had not tried anything on all night, so I looked up at him and said I was all right. We talked a bit, me avoiding Owen’s concerned looks. And when Hugh asked me to dance, I gladly escaped with him back to the floor.

Hugh was a good dancer. He joked and laughed with me, but it was no good. The euphoria I had been feeling all night had evaporated.

“What say I get the band to play your favourite song? That should cheer you up.”

“You don’t even know my favourite song,” I answered.

“You said earlier that you had heard this band play ‘Come on Eileen’ last time you saw them and that it was one of your favourites. So I’ll get them to play that.”

Then he shut his eyes and twisted his face up in concentration. I had to laugh; he looked so funny.

“What are you doing?”

“Thought control, I’m communicating with the singer. Telling him I want him to play, ‘Come on, Eileen’. And hold on... he’s said yes!”

“You can’t do that, you silly bugger.”

“Want to bet? Something sexy, not money!”

“I’m not giving you a blowjob on the dance floor if that is what you are after.”

Hugh gave a throaty laugh, “Oh! That would be nice. No! I was thinking in you doing something daring and dropping your knickers would be a good payment.”

“I’m certainly not doing that!”

“So you do believe I have mind control! What have you got to lose? I bet you have done nothing exciting and scandalous in your life.”

I swayed against him for a few seconds, thinking that I had not seen him go anywhere near the band, and even though I knew I would never drop my panties, I found myself laughing and agreeing to the bet. Then, seconds later, to my amazement, the band struck up the first few notes of ‘Come On Eileen’.

“You bastard, how did you do that? I’m not dropping my panties; you have tricked me.”

“I haven’t tricked you at all. I was in a band a few years ago and know how to combine music sets. So it seemed the logical song to play after the last number. So I didn’t trick you at all. And you will drop your knickers; you cannot renege on a bet. I’ll be kind and let you do it unobserved back at our table, though.”

We continued to dance, but I contemplated my dilemma during the rest of our dance. I was surprised that I was more aroused by the thought of standing in a crowded bar wearing no panties than I could have imagined. But I still believed I would never have the courage to drop them. However, when I again told Hugh I would not do it, he said I would or would pull them down himself.

Back at the table, minutes later, when everyone turned to watch some hot woman on the dance floor, Hugh gave me a nudge and indicated it was time. Looking at the table to our left to ensure they weren’t watching, I quickly hooked my fingers in the waistband, slipped my panties past my hips and let them drop to my knees, intending to pull them up again quickly. He pushed them out of my hands to the floor with his foot. And as I tried to reach down to pull them up again, he shook his head at me and kept his foot there, telling me he had all night. I did not want to create a scene, so I lifted each foot clear and watched him bend down, whisk them under his nose and then into his pocket.

His smell of my panties and the glisten of light on the sopping wet patch in the crotch sent a surge of arousal through me. I realised I had a problem; I could already feel my vaginal secretions seeping down my thighs now that I was bare down there. Fuck! I was drenched, wet like a horny schoolgirl.

As these thoughts tumbled through my mind, Hugh nudged me to look to my left, and I saw Dave walking towards me. I gawked at him, knowing I looked as guilty as hell. I asked him if he had sorted the alarm, and when he replied it was all good, a flare of annoyance at his betrayal stabbed me. I stepped around him, grabbed Owen and marched back to the dance floor, knowing that if I stayed with Dave, I would likely cause a scene and say things I’d later regret.

We danced, and although Owen held me close, he did not dare make any moves on me. I was so annoyed at Dave that I wanted him to touch me. I’d have probably let him fuck me right then if he had tried. I held him close and asked him to kiss me, which he did, and I found myself genuinely responding to his kisses. His warm mouth almost burned me. I responded by searching out his tongue and sucking on it with passion.

We were deep in the middle of the crowded dance floor, but I hoped Dave could see us. I was demanding of Owen. I pushed my hips against his leg. My knees went weak as he searched out my breasts and pinched my super hard nipples between a thumb and forefinger. I wanted him to touch me between my legs and find I wasn’t wearing panties. But I was not that sort of woman. Still, I spent the following dances trying to get my agonised, itchy cunt to rub against his body. But Owen held me at bay and told me to wait. It was not the place to be so obvious.

When we returned to the table, everyone was getting ready to leave for a party at Hugh’s house. I had no option but to stand by Dave and unbelievingly found he was annoyed with me. Fucking incredible. I felt guilty about the liberties I had let the guys take, but they would never have happened if he had not left me alone with them. When we got to the car, I ushered Liam into the front with Dave. I did not want to talk to Dave, fearing we would get into a horrible argument. So instead, I climbed in the back with Emma, a pretty little thing Liam had picked up in the bar. Just as Dave went to pull away, Owen pulled the door open on my side and hopped in beside me.

On the way to Hugh’s place, Owen slipped his hand to my knee and tried to sneak it up under my skirt. As I attempted to hold him at bay, Emma came at me from the other side and slid her hand along the inside of my leg. I was shocked. I’d never had a woman attempt to touch me. As I attempted to remove her hand, Owen renewed his assault. I whispered to Emma that I was not into women, and at the same time, I grabbed Owen’s hand and held it tight, only inches from my naked fanny, mortified that one of them would find out I wasn’t wearing panties. 

Emma giggled and whispered to me that being bisexual was having the best of both worlds and made it twice as easy to get dates. Then she settled back, and we started talking. She soon had me relaxed and laughing with her whilst I held on tightly to Owen’s hand, which was still stroking inside my thigh. I had to admit that Emma’s attention had both shocked and excited me. 

The rest of the drive was exciting. Emma told me I should fuck Hugh, that he was the best fuck she’d ever had, “He’s really kinky.”

I was scared Dave would hear her and asked her not to talk like that, “I’m married and would never play around.”

She just looked knowingly at me and kissed me on the cheek. 

Once we arrived at the house, Hugh took Dave off somewhere. Emma and I were left to help get the food and music sorted, and I was introduced to Michelle and Julian, the couple renting the other bedroom from Hugh.

When the guys returned from downstairs, Hugh hustled me into the kitchen to get us some drinks. He had bourbon and coke, which would keep Dave happy, and even had my favourite drink, Southern Comfort.  

Then he dropped a bombshell on me, “I can see you are annoyed with Dave. Pop these in his drink, and you can forget about him for a while.”

“What are they?” I asked. “Mild sleeping pills. They’ll send Dave to sleep for a while.”

What I did not know at the time was that they were not sleeping pills but just sugar pills. 

He dropped them into my hand, indicating I tip them into Dave’s glass. My initial reaction was to protect Dave and throw them in the sink. But then I remembered his betrayal. I found I was even more pissed with him now that he seemed angry and resentful of me. And I tipped both pills into Dave’s drink, thinking, ‘That will teach the bastard’.

Then, immediately shocked at my doing that, I asked Hugh how long he would be out.

“Oh! A couple of hours, I expect. After that, he won’t have a clue he has taken them. They are quite mild and leave no aftereffects.”

I knew that Dave often used sleeping pills on his overseas flights. He said they knocked him out cold for five hours or so. Sometimes, when I travelled with him, I saw that he slept through meals. It dawned on me that I had just given him two pills with alcohol and that it could knock him out for hours.

I considered pretending to trip up and drop his drink. But I was still peeved enough with him to ignore doing the right thing. So I handed Dave the glass when I returned to the lounge and watched him take a large gulp. He lay back and said he was pretty tired and had sore eyes from the smoke in the bar. Hugh heard Dave complain about his aching eyes and brought Dave a silly pair of sunglasses. I was happy when he put them on, as I figured it would calm him and make him drift off.

We all sat around nibbling at the food and asking one another questions. I struggled to keep my skirt from working its way up, conscious of all the men in the room checking out my legs. Dave and I did speak, but we were both uptight, so I gave the others most of my attention. When Emma got up to dance with Liam, I asked Dave if he wanted to dance. He yawned, told me to dance, and asked if we could go home soon, as he was pretty tired.

Hugh watched, and when Dave declined, he came over and asked me to dance with him. As we moved into each other’s arms alongside Emma and Liam, I felt Hugh’s hand sliding down to my butt and a finger pushing down my butt crease. It was the first adverse attention he had given me, and I looked around to see if anyone noticed. Dave appeared to have already passed out. Michelle and Julian were kissing on the far settee, and Chris and Tobias had left the room.

The only one watching was Owen. His ardent, predatory look shocked me into realising what I had done. By drugging Dave, I had given these guys carte blanche to take liberties with me.

I broke away from Hugh, saying I was busting and needed the bathroom. I bent over Dave and shook him, having decided to wake him and say we were going home. But even when I nearly rattled his teeth out of his head, he just lay slumped back, out of this world. Worried, I walked to the bathroom to sort out what I should do and what implications it may have if I stayed.

I examined myself in the mirror. I looked hot and could not blame the guys for thinking I was available. I had not dressed like this for years. My nipples were showing, and they were erect and hard. I lifted my skirt and gazed at my pantiless, almost hairless mound. Dropping my dress back into place, I shuddered; the euphoria I felt at having stood in a crowded bar and now at a party sans panties was making me hornier than hell.

But a dozen other conflicting thoughts were going through my mind. I could not be unfaithful; it was not in my nature. How could I get myself and Dave out of here? But I wanted to dance some more with Owen. He was exciting and had woken feelings I had suppressed all my life. Would Dave realise I had drugged him? What would this do to our marriage? Just a few dances with Owen and Hugh would not hurt. I would not let them go any further than they already had.

As a dozen other thoughts coursed through my mind, I went to the toilet, grabbed a flannel, cleaned the mess between my thighs, and returned to the lounge. Bugger it, I thought, I’ll have a few dances, and when Owen tries to get me into the bedroom, which I knew he would, I will wake Dave and drive him home.

Back in the lounge, I saw that they had dimmed the lights. They even had two candles burning over by the stereo. I walked over and gave Dave another shake, and when there was no reaction whatsoever, I downed the rest of my drink and joined Hugh by the TV. I was apprehensive but excited, especially at the prospect of dancing with Owen soon. However, I felt safe with Hugh and reasoned I would be safe with Owen also, given all the others in the room.

But when I looked at Hugh, I noticed a change. There was a steel glint in his eyes. Even in the dim light, I saw the experienced stern expression on Hugh’s face, which exuded animal confidence. I was instantly aware that I was in scary, uncharted territory.

“God, you’re beautiful in the candlelight,” Hugh murmured in my ear. Then he pushed me out at arm’s length and ran his eyes over my body. I felt like I was being stripped bare. But his carnal appraisal was erotic and provocative; my body flooded with endorphins, and they made every nerve stand on end, warning me to take flight.

But I stayed still, soaking up the feelings his carnal look evoked, and let him gather me back in his arms. I felt a calm inevitability wash over me. I was well out of my depth. Hugh started nibbling on my ear, moved his hands to my hips and pushed a leg between mine. I had craved this in the pub when dancing with Owen an hour before. But now, with my husband lying comatose only a couple of arm lengths away, I was not so sure. 

They talk about men’s dicks overruling their brains; well, tonight, it was my cunt that overcame all my good sense. It suddenly felt alive. I had to stop from reaching down and touching myself. Instead, I forced my hands to move in the other direction, up behind Hugh’s neck, which he took as permission to kiss me. He grabbed my hair, roughly tilted my head, and then worked on my mouth with his invading tongue. At the same time, his other hand found my breast and painfully tweaked a nipple. He was no longer playing the father figure but was being aggressive and forceful.

The pain from his pinching my nipple made my arousal flare to a new high. I had fantasised about being taken and overpowered by an attractive stranger—one who would take me to heights of ecstasy beyond my wildest dreams. And now, I realised my fantasy was playing out, and I knew I would be powerless to stop him.

He continued to bathe my neck with soft, passionate kisses, but his hands were now undoing buttons to bare my breasts. I made one last attempt to push his hands away and looked over to ensure Dave was still out of it.

Hugh let me push his hands away from my breasts, but when I returned mine to his neck again, he moved his hands under my partially open blouse, caressed my stomach and then moved them up and under my bra.

I heard myself whimper a protest as his hands touched my naked flesh. I tried, half-heartedly, to extract myself from his embrace. Aware that the others in the room had to be watching. I had always been horrified at the thought of anyone seeing me in any intimate situation. Then he kissed me again, and I forgot about everything. His kiss felt incredible, warm, wet and delicious; I wondered what he was drinking.

I felt someone move in behind me and knew it would be Owen. I turned my head to him, and we kissed. He was rubbing himself into my butt, and I did not care. The thought of being lodged between two strange men, one working on my tits, the other running his shaft between my butt cheeks, flooded my body with new amoral demands that were overpowering. It drove any thoughts of flight or resistance out of my mind.

I slumped; my legs were weak and shaky. Hugh held me up, and I felt Owen’s fingers run between my legs, feeling their way into my incredibly wet slit. The scalding heat this generated nearly made me cum. I fought to hold my orgasm at bay and clutched a hand between my legs, too sensitive to let him touch me there. He dropped to his knees and started to eat me, even trying to push his tongue into my bum. Again, I fought to stop him; I would not let Dave touch me there. But it felt so good, and my anus was involuntarily puckering at his touch. Again, I had to fight against my orgasm exploding, and just in time, I felt him move away, giving me some reprieve. I fought to hold back from a premature release.

I felt Owen unzipping my skirt, and against every bit of good sense I possessed, I wiggled my bum so that it fell to the floor. He moulded himself against my back and thrust into me hard. I lost myself completely. The erotic and sensual sensation of having him drive himself deep within my body in one thrust was something I had never experienced before. I doubt he thrust into me a dozen times before a huge orgasm shook my body. He didn’t stop pushing himself into me, ignoring that I was coming hard. He hammered harder and harder, smashing my bared tits onto Hugh’s eager hands.

“Tell him what you want!” Hugh spoke into my ear. He turned me side on to those on the couch and lifted my leg so my knee was up on my breast. I tried to pull it down, knowing this position exposed me to everyone in the room. But he held me firm and repeated, “Tell him you want him to fuck your cunt. Say it!”

And I heard myself yell, “Yes! Deeper! Harder! Yes! Screw me, Owen. Fuck, I need this! Ahhheee!” And what seemed like only minutes later, a second, even bigger orgasm struck. I must have passed out momentarily, as my next recollection was Hugh lowering me to the sheepskin rug and laying alongside me. My body was still twitching with orgasmic spasms that had my back arching up from the floor.

I started to cry, overwhelmed by the force of my climaxes, embarrassed at having acted like an absolute whore and yelling out those obscenities.

Hugh lifted my chin in his hand, smiled reassuringly at me and wiped away my tears, “Hush, my beautiful little slut. Just take what life gives you and enjoy it to the fullest. Owen and I are going to give you many more orgasms tonight. Tomorrow, it will just be an incredible memory that no one else will ever know happened. Now roll over; it’s my turn to make love with you now.”

“No! I can’t; I’m too sensitive and have already come twice. I can’t do it again.”

“Oh! You have much more to give. Tonight, you are our slut. Owen and I gave a young woman eight orgasms not long ago, but you came so quickly and hard that I think we will give you even more.”

Owen was breathing heavily in my ear. Between his kisses and wonderful caresses, he told me I was incredible and had made him come so hard he was knackered. He moved his hand to my breast and made to tweak my nipple, but I flinched at his touch, so he let his hand rest on my breast and snuggled against me. Then, I felt Hugh’s fingers searching between my legs. I flinched at his touch as well. I was so sensitive. He cupped my mound while I slowly came down from my high.

We lay together for what seemed an age, but it was only a matter of minutes before I felt their fingers slowly start to work on me again. I could not bear their touch, yet I wanted it so badly I could not stay still.

Owen sweet-talked in my ear. “Are you still too sensitive? I want to touch your incredible body; I need you again.”

Then Hugh spoke in my other ear, “It’s my turn to take you now. Owen can wait; I will fuck you as you’ve never been fucked before.”

My conscience screamed at me to flee. No man should be saying these crude things to me. But my hips were moving, in time with his soft administrations on my once again very eager snatch. Hugh rolled away and disrobed while Owen distracted me by sucking on my nipples. Then Hugh snuggled in against my side, and I felt his stiff shaft pressing into my hip. It seemed bloody big, not that I had much experience with cocks, only having Dave’s to compare with before tonight.

Hugh pulled me onto him, and I glanced down to check him out. Fuck! He was huge. My mind screamed at me to run again, this time in fear. I did not believe I could ever accommodate him. It dwarfed Dave’s, who I had always considered well-endowed. He and I had watched a couple of porn videos, laughing about the size of some guys. But I never thought them natural. They were just on a screen and probably doctored. But Hugh’s was real and standing to attention only a foot away.

He just laughed, “I often see that look on women’s faces the first time they see it. But don’t worry, you’ll be all right. You do it, cowgirl, and take it slowly.” He lifted me by my hips so my knees dropped on each side of him, and I held myself there, wondering how I would manage to accommodate his size - but determined to try.

I did not know what cowgirl meant, but I guessed he had me how he wanted me. I lowered myself down on him as he guided his knob along my slit. It was too big, and I pulled back. But Hugh scooped some of the mess Owen had made and liberally applied it around his knob. Then, using two fingers, he spread my labia and pulled on my hips, so I sank onto him. The bulbous head slid in an inch or so before the size made me stop and lift slightly. I paused, waited for the discomfort to subside, then sank again and achieved another inch.

For the next few minutes, I eased down, lifted, and then eased down again until I almost encompassed all of him. It felt like I was sitting on a tall beer can. I tried a couple of small bounces to test if it hurt too much. Then, with a surge of pride that I had managed to accommodate all of him with minimal discomfort, I started to bounce carefully up and down.

When Hugh saw me try those small bounces, he started thrusting, timing his movements with mine. My initial anguished yelps quickly changed to aroused gasps of pleasure. His huge cock was not only stretching me, it was also stimulating areas never touched before. I cried out and moaned as my body reacted. I began thrusting down on Hugh, attempting to match his now-powerful strokes. My nipples grew hard as granite, and I leaned down to search his mouth with my tongue. My head swung back and forth in a sexual frenzy, and another orgasm struck with such force that I lost all reality about where I was.

Seconds later, I came to my senses and found Hugh still thrusting into me; amazingly, I found I was still not finished either. My whole being was alive with sensations, agitated and aflame. I started matching his strokes, then, with alarm, complained as he lifted me and pulled out of me. 

I grabbed for his shaft, “What are you doing? Don’t stop.”

“Then ask what you want. Turn around. We’ll do reverse cowgirl,” he used his hands to turn me away and take up the new position.

As I tried to plunge and impale myself once more, he pulled his cock to the side and told me to tell him what I wanted him to do.

“Fuck me, you bastard! You bloody well know what I want.”

“I do know what you want. But remember, you are my slut for this night, and I want to hear you say what you want. So tell me where you want me to stick my cock, you slut.”

His filthy language sent an exquisite craving into my groin. And I obeyed his demand, “Fuck me in my cunt. Fuck me hard in my wet, aching cunt!”

I was surprised to find that I meant those words. I was desperate for him to keep fucking me. But using such filthy language made me uncomfortable, and I looked over to the couch again to check Dave was still out of it.

I got a shock. Emma had her head in Dave’s lap, gobbling on his erect cock. A surge of jealousy cramped my stomach. They were only a few feet away from me. Another woman with my husband.

“Oh, God! He’s awake!” I slurred to Owen, who was still sitting beside me, playing with my tits.

Owen stretched up to kiss me, “No, he’s not. The pills Hugh said you gave him will keep him out for at least four hours. He’s having the most wonderful wet dream he will ever experience.”

“But he’s responding to her. He’s hard. He has to be awake?”

“No, anyone would jerk around if they had Emma’s lips around them; she gives incredible blow jobs. I promise he’s fast asleep and will only remember it as a realistic wet dream tomorrow.”

It took me a minute to overcome my shock, but my body’s needs soon overcame my concerns. And I resumed dancing around on Hugh’s cock, and tried to ignore Emma’s activities with my husband.

My body’s demands made me bounce my arse in sync with Hugh’s thrusts. It was not long before I realised I was quickly approaching another climax. When it hit, I slumped back onto Hugh and shut my eyes tight, savouring the spasms racking my body.

I felt Owen lean over me and ply another of his demanding kisses on my mouth. I parted my lips to receive him, then realised it was not Owen. The tongue invading my mouth tasted of sperm - my husband’s sperm. Even before I opened my eyes, I knew it was Emma as I felt her breasts pressed against mine. The little vixen fed me the fluid she had just milked from Dave. I tried to turn my head away in disgust. But Hugh, still beneath me, reached up and held my head still, “Swallow it all slut; it’s not like you have never tasted him before,” growled Hugh.

I became very aware, at that moment, of what I had become, and worst of all, I knew I wanted more. The longing that had built in my loins was far from being sated. As Hugh wriggled out from under me, Emma continued kissing while her hand slid down to play with my breasts.

“You have beautiful tits; I wish mine were that big.”

I was about to answer her when someone moved between my legs and took Hugh’s place. Looking over Emma’s shoulder, I saw Liam kneeling, pointing his cock at my opening. I tried to close my legs; the kid was nearly twenty years younger than me. Hugh pulled my legs apart, though, and when I looked over to tell him I wasn’t fucking some kid, the look he gave me told me it was useless arguing, so I just relaxed back onto the sheepskin and opened my legs wide.

The little bugger was quite a good lover; he mixed things up. He was rotating his hips in circles, varying his pace to match my movements, even holding still and applying pressure when I got too eager. It took a while, but soon, he had me gasping for him to go harder as I was coming. Emma urged me throughout and kept sucking on my tits or tonguing my mouth as Liam fucked me. She even talked dirty, much like Hugh had, telling me how good it was watching Liam fuck me.

Liam waited for me, and as I came, he let out a few nasty expletives of his own, and I was imbued with warmth as he filled me with spurts of his cum. I was shocked when Emma pushed him off me and dived between my legs to eat me out. I shouldn’t have been able to stand her ministrations on my pussy, and I did struggle with sensitivity for a few minutes. But then her efforts started to feel good, and I lay back and let her pleasure me as my orgasm slowly subsided. It was beautiful; her tender, loving treatment of my slit extended the length of my orgasm wonderfully.

I looked around the room to see where Owen had disappeared. I located him over on the far settee with Michelle and Julian. A pang of jealousy bit into my gut. He was kissing her, and she was trying to ward off his roving hands.

I almost cried out but realised I was being ludicrous. What right did I have to be upset about Owen wooing another woman? I tried to relax and settled back onto the sheepskin. But his betrayal hurt; he’d moved on after fucking me.

 My delusion shattered. I returned to the present and found Emma beside me, hands still caressing my breasts.

“Did you enjoy that?” she asked, “You’ve gone very quiet.”

I was too embarrassed to answer her. I couldn’t admit to enjoying having her eat me out. That was way too much to admit, even to myself. So I asked a stupid question that I immediately wanted to take back, “Why is Owen over there with Michelle?”

“Oh! That’s my fault. Since Michelle and Julian moved in here over a year ago, he’s wanted to nail her, but she would not have a bar of him. However, I watched her tonight when Owen was fucking you; she could hardly contain herself, couldn’t keep that hot arse still. So I told him tonight may be his lucky night.”

“Won’t Julian get angry?” I asked while watching Owen to check on his progress.

“I’ve known Julian forever; we lived next door to one another once. And we took each other’s cherries when we were much younger. He would never stand up to Owen; besides, he loves watching. Hell, he has watched me get fucked plenty of times.”

As Emma talked, Hugh moved in behind her, obviously intending to have her next. I bobbed my head to warn her, thinking she would never be able to accommodate his size as she was such a tiny little thing. But when I murmured this to her, she laughed, “I’ve had Horny Hugh many times this past year. I love his cock. It’s the biggest I’ve ever had.”

With this, Hugh rolled Emma away from my side and pulled her legs onto his shoulders. Then, ordered me to guide him into Emma’s hairless quim. I did not even attempt to argue with him. His attitude had changed in the last hour. He had become very dominant, and oddly, I found that being subservient to him was rather appealing.

It was surreal guiding another man’s cock into a young woman I hardly knew. He plunged into Emma, and she groaned with pleasure, no pain, no protest; she took about two-thirds of him in one thrust. She was such a petite little thing, no more than five-one tall. To say I was incredulous is an understatement. How could that tiny young vixen take such a massive cock?

Emma pulled my head over her tits, and I rolled onto my knees, then turned all my attention to her perfectly firm little globes. Sucking on another woman’s nipples was something I would never, in my wildest dreams, have expected I could do. But I felt I owed her after the pleasure she had given me. 

I knew my arse sticking up in the air would be way too inviting. So I was not surprised to feel someone crouch behind me and thrust into my abused cunt. My only concern was, who was it? Who was fucking me now?

I swung my head around and saw it was Julian. And I looked over to the settee to see what Owen was doing. He had turned Michelle around so her arms were over the back of the couch. She still had her dress on, but it was hitched up on her back, and her panties were around her knees. I wondered if he was forcing her, but I discounted that when I heard her calling out how good he felt.

I understood why Julian was plunging into my rear with such angry, hard thrusts.

Emma bent back to see where I was looking, “Good! Owen’s finally nailed her.”

Then she pulled my head back to her tits, and I worked my arse around, wondering if there was any chance of my achieving another climax, I had no idea how many I had had, but I thought I must be getting close to my limit.

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur. I remember Julian coming in me, my slumping down exhausted, and then Owen sticking his messy cock in my mouth and making me clean Michelle’s mess. That was a huge turn-on, but it made me feel like a slut. Sometime later, Owen carried me down the hall to a spare bedroom and made love to me again.

I do not have any recollection if I had another orgasm. I may have fallen asleep during it as I woke with Owen handing me a glass of water and two Panadol. He made me drink the mixture even though I resisted, saying I would thank him in the morning. As I drifted to sleep, I heard him telling me he would tell Dave where I was when he finally woke up.

When I next awoke, it was Dave crawling into bed. He cuddled into me and started saying he was sorry. It took me a while to register Dave’s form and smell, and I wondered why he was saying sorry when it should be me apologising. But I was too tired to sort it out. I’m pretty sure we made love. Well, fucked might be a better description, as it was all just sex and getting myself off now.

At the first signs of light, I woke, lying in the mess from the night before. Luckily, someone had placed a towel under me. I was busting to go to the toilet, so I slipped out of bed and searched for a bathroom.

I saw a wrack with spare towels, grabbed one and hopped in the shower. The bathroom door opened seconds later, and Owen slipped in with me. I panicked at the thought Dave might catch us and tried to push him out. But Owen told me to calm down, as he had talked with Dave, and then proceeded to wash me.

What he said made little sense, but I did not want to start yelling and making a scene, so I let him wash and dry me and then lead me back to the bedroom.

Dave was awake, gave me a good morning and, ignoring the fact, Owen held me around the waist. He just hopped out of bed, kissed me on the cheek and took off to the toilet himself. Owen’s hands were caressing my breasts before Dave got out the door. And I spent the next few minutes trying to ward him off. 

When Dave returned, he drew me over to lie against him and asked if I wanted to talk.

“No! My head is a mess. I need time to sort out all the stuff that happened last night. Maybe later today. You do realise Owen is in bed with us?”

He drew me hard against him, “I asked him to visit us this morning. There is something I have wanted to do all my life, and this seems the ideal time for us to do it.

I could not fully comprehend what was happening and how Dave took all this so calmly. I needed him to make love to me. I needed him to want me, tell me he loved me, and soothe the foreboding feelings permeating my addled brain. I lifted my left leg onto his hip, pushed my groin against him, and almost cried out with joy as I felt him harden against me. His cock growing erect gave me hope that I hadn’t totally stuffed our marriage.

I had almost forgotten Owen, but as Dave reached down and eased himself into my sloppy, worn sheath, I felt Owen move in behind me.

The realisation grew: what they were about to attempt. I tried to wriggle out from Dave’s arms. He held me tight and whispered, “You owe me this; I have always fantasised about doing it with you.”

After all that had happened, I realised I could not refuse. So, with much trepidation, I tried to relax and let Dave withdraw and roll me onto my stomach. But I felt lost when he pulled out, and I tried to hold onto him, “It will be easier for you in this position for a few moments; then we’ll change positions,” he told me.

Owen fingered Vaseline into my arse, then mounted me and eased himself between my cheeks. There was nowhere near the pain I expected. I guessed that all the sex I had had must have desensitised me somehow. But I stiffened up anyway, and Dave got beside me, searched my lips, and kissed me. He crooned in my ear to relax and that it was all right. Then he pushed his hand under me, found my clit and rolled his fingers around it. It took a while, but as I became more comfortable lying with two men, I relaxed and began to enjoy the sensations Owen’s thrusting prick was arousing.

It didn’t take long for the pain to ease and for my body to accept the intrusion. And then, as I started responding to his thrusts, Dave helped Owen roll onto his back with me on top. Positioning himself above us, he attempted to insert himself into me. But he had some difficulty, as they were both well-hung. There followed some manoeuvring from the three of us, and finally, Dave had himself fully inserted in my stretched cunt.

And so began my first-ever double penetration. It was fucking amazing; I hoped it would not be the last time we would try this. We fucked for a long time and changed positions several times. I came more than once, but each orgasm blended into the next, and it seemed like just one exquisite, erogenous experience. Finally, both guys came, and we all lay beside one another, breathing hard as we came down from our respective highs.

They stroked and caressed me as I lay there, not even embarrassed. Anal had always been such a taboo area, but I enjoyed it. Dave instigating this made it seem like there was some chance of atonement possible for my actions of the previous night. I felt that letting him have the double penetration he had asked for may make things right between us later.

We heard sounds of others moving around the house, and Owen hopped out of bed and said he was off to make breakfast for us and not to dally in bed too long.

Dave and I had another shower together, then dressed. Dave refused to let me put on my bra or knickers, no matter how much I pleaded. I was surprised to find he had my panties. The last I had seen of them was when they disappeared into Hugh’s pocket.

I was relieved that Hugh had left for work; I did not know how I would have faced him. At breakfast, everyone treated me as if nothing had happened. Except for Emma, she handed me a slip of paper with her phone number and whispered that she wanted to meet up with me sometime.

Around nine, we got in our car and headed home. I sat there silently, pondering how much Dave knew and how much I should admit to.