The three men were endowed with enormous cocks. When they rammed those beasts into her holes, stretching her to the hilt, she was half afraid she would break into several parts. But it was what she’d wanted. She’d lived so long with her husband’s deficient girth, and though the party ended with her exhausted and with aches where she hardly knew she had body parts, she’d never felt so satisfied either.

It was a complete fiction, of course, but the story provided my wife Cynthia and I with the same pleasure as always. I did my husbandly duty, worshiping her lubricious quim with my tongue as she read the story out loud with her legs spread. But best of all was that we knew who had written the story. The reluctance and hardcore stories written by our next door neighbour Emily had been our favourites for some time.

Discovering that the author lived next door had been a great thrill, even more so when we’d had our wicked way with her a couple of weeks ago. She’d been reluctant, but by the end of it she’d begged us to let her cum. She and Cynthia remained Lush friends, which we took as a good sign, but she had sent a message to my wife, saying, “You do understand that it was a moment of madness. I’m married, for goodness sake. George must never know.”

But now, as Cynthia and I lay curled up, postcoitally, my wife said, “Do you think it’s a coincidence that she published this story the day before George leaves for his cheese conference?”

“Hoping that three studs will just materialize on her doorstep while hubby’s away?”

Cynthia giggled. “Who can tell what she’s thinking? But it must be lonely for her, poor thing, with George away.”

I let a hand roam to one of my wife’s fondlesome breasts. “Well, I did suggest we might go over and keep her company.”

“Yes,” Cynthia said. “You did, my wicked husband, and it’s still a very good idea.”

“Unless she’s gotten cold feet.”

“Well,” Cynthia said. “Based on how things panned out last time, I’m sure she can be persuaded.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” I said.

The next morning I met Emily briefly as we both unlocked our respective cars to drive off to work. She was in her officewear, black nylons, pencil skirt, smart jacket and blouse. “Morning, Emily,” I said.

“Good morning, Robert,” she replied neutrally, but with the hint of a smile, as she had every time I’d met her like this in the past two weeks. As I drove to work, I allowed myself the revelry of contrasting Emily the consummate professional with the Emily of her most recent story, putting herself at the mercy of lustful brutes with huge cocks.

This thought recurred throughout the day, and I was very much in the mood for carnal pleasure when I got home. If Cynthia hadn’t so obviously been dressed for a visit to the next door neighbour, I might have taken her right there and then, over the kitchen table.

Cynthia knows how much I love nylon, and had chosen black stockings today, along with red high heeled shoes. She was wearing a stunning red top, which fit tight and revealed just the right amount of cleavage. It was obvious that she was not wearing a bra, and when she bent over in the black microskirt she was wearing, I was delighted to be able to observe that she’d left her knickers off too.

“I’ve put some gear together,” she said, pointing to a bag on the kitchen floor.

“Oh yes?” I said. “What have you chosen?”

“Let it be a nice surprise,” my wife said.

This thrilled me, just as much as the sense that we were felons, or house-breakers, because that’s what the bag and my wife’s choice of words implied. “You know,” I said to my wife, “It’s all I can do to stop myself from getting stuck into you right now.”

Cynthia flashed me her most depraved smile. “Restrain yourself,” she said. “You need to be raring to go.”

I did restrain myself. Cynthia logged on to Lush, and after a while, it became clear that Emily had logged on too. After about ten minutes her status changed to, ‘away’.

“What do you think that means?” I asked.

“I think it means we give it five minutes, and then we pay her a visit,” my wife said.

It was about eight and dark when Cynthia and I made our way next door, trying to render ourselves as invisible as possible, with me carrying the bag with unspecified items inside. It really did feel like we were on a burgling mission, and of course our aim was most assuredly nefarious.

Emily took her time coming to the door. When she did, she was wearing nothing but a leaf green dress that buttoned down the front and didn’t quite reach her knees. “I’m busy,” she said in response to my wife’s greeting.

“I can see that,” I said, staring straight at where there the contours of obvious swelling were visible on her ample bosom. “When the hubby’s away, eh?”

I wanted to try and gauge her mood, but Cynthia was pushing past Emily, saying “Can we come in?” as if she hadn’t heard, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world to just barge into the neighbours’ home.

“You can’t just…” Emily said, turning and following my wife. I in turn followed Emily into the house, closing the door behind me.

We ended up in the living room, where a laptop stood on the coffee table in front of the settee. To my delight there was also a slim, black vibrator on the sofa. Cynthia was already there, peering at the screen. Emily had stopped dead in the middle of the room.

“Would you believe it?” Cyn said. “She’s in a private chat room with three men!”

“Figures,” I said, dropping the bag on the floor. “After her latest story.”

“It’s… It’s… private for a reason,” Emily stuttered.

Remembering the way mention of George had a certain effect on her, I said, “I’m guessing hubby still doesn’t know about your stories and stuff.”

Just as she had two weeks ago at our place, Emily became tense and nervous. “He wouldn’t understand.”

“I bet he wouldn’t,” I said. “Not after you slandered his tiny prick in that latest story of yours. Leaves you wanting more, does he?”

This unexpectedly seemed to galvanize Emily. “Anyone can have a fantasy,” she said. “There’s no law against it. As for going further…”

“Like behaving like a lusty tart in a chat room?” Cyn suggested.

“What has she been up to?” I asked.

Cynthia peered at the screen. “They haven’t got very far,” she said. “The men are busy discussing her in her absence. One of them seems very keen on anal. Em, dear, why don’t you come over here and tell him how much you want it up the arse? Just like you did in that story of yours?”

“I-I- can’t,” Emily breathed. “Not with you here.”

“Maybe I’ll do it myself then,” Cynthia said, causing Emily to sprint across to the settee.

“No!” she exclaimed, dragging the laptop across and typing in some words.

“You know,” I said, very slowly and deliberately. “I feel sorry for George.”

Both Cynthia and Emily looked up, and I saw that both got my drift. “What George doesn’t know he can’t worry about, can he?” my wife said.

There was silence before Emily breathed, “I’d like to keep it that way. You do understand that?”

I shrugged. “You know we do, Emily. We’re souls of discretion. Has either of us spoken a word about how you begged us to make you cum the other week, like some raving nympho?”

Emily stared down at the floor. “That was just… It can’t happen again. You do understand that?”

“Oh, Em,” Cynthia cajoled. “Don’t be like that. It was such fun. You did enjoy yourself, didn’t you?”

“You must understand…” Emily was starting to sound like a broken record. “George…”

“A married woman alone in a chat room with three men,” I mused. “I wonder if George would understand.”

“You mustn’t keep them waiting, Em,” my wife said as my words caused Emily’s eyes to darken with apprehension.

“It’s supposed to be private,” Emily said, glancing at my wife.

Cynthia obligingly moved away, finding an armchair and crossing her legs in an exaggerated fashion that afforded me a view up her skirt, of her naked pussy. Emily began typing, then she stopped, waiting.

“Bring the bag over here, would you Rob?” Cynthia said.

Emily glanced at us. Then her attention was drawn back to the computer, where she typed a few more words. I put the bag on the floor next to Cynthia, who unzipped it. I caught Emily glancing at us again, but mostly she was attending to the business in the chat room.

I went round behind the armchair and put my hands on my wife’s breasts, squeezing. “Oooh, Rob!” she responded. “Are you getting frisky?”

“I’m in the same room as two sexy ladies,” I said. “How could I not be?”

Emily was glancing at us, but then the computer demanded her attention again. “Have you told them you want it up the arse yet?” Cyn asked.

“That’s none of your business,” Emily snapped.

Cyn turned her head to glance up at me. “I bet she has,” she said. “That’s what that story was about; her advertising herself.”

“Knowing that George wouldn’t be home,” I said.

Mention of George caused a reaction in Emily, but not as great as when she saw Cyn retrieve a camera from the bag. “What’s that?” she said.

“You know what it is,” Cyn said. “We thought we’d give you a hand.”

“A hand?”

“We’ve noticed that you haven’t posted any new pictures lately, even though there’s clearly a demand for them,” Cyn said.

Emily didn’t respond, her attention once again drawn to the computer. I was delighted that my wife had brought the camera. It made me wonder what else was in the bag. I gave Cyn’s breasts a final squeeze before standing up straight. “If you’re going to frequent chatrooms, Emily, you need to give the men a good view of what they’re playing with.”

“What?” Emily said. “I am a person you know.”

“To them,” I said, gesturing at the computer, “you’re just a bit of skirt. You do get that, don’t you Emily?”

Emily typed something into the computer, starting when Cyn aimed the camera at her and took a shot. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture,” Cyn said.

“It’s not like you’re indecent or anything,” I chimed in. “Fully dressed, just sitting at your computer. Mind you, those rock hard nipples are a bit of a giveaway.”

Cynthia laughed and snapped some more shots. “It makes you wonder what George would make of the pictures if he saw them.”

My wife knew what she was doing. Any mention of Emily’s husband was likely to cause a reaction. “You mustn’t show the photos to George,” she said.

“Why ever not?” I asked. “Like I said, you’re fully dressed with the computer in front of you. Perfectly innocent.” I paused while Emily’s fingers moved across the keyboard. “Not like those pictures you’ve already published of yourself; your big naked tits and wet juicy cunt. I wonder what George would make of those.”

“George mustn’t…” Emily gasped.

“And those comments,” my wife interrupted. “So many men wanting to cum all over your tits and watch you rub the spunk into them. Not to mention fucking your tight, juicy pussy.”

Emily went bright red, though whether from Cynthia’s words or the words in front of her on the screen as she leaned forward to type, it was hard to tell.

“But those pictures are getting a bit old,” I said. “You need to put some new ones up, Emily.”

“No I don’t,” Emily said.

I moved round from behind the armchair, in Emily’s direction. “Ask them,” I said, gesturing at the laptop. “Ask if they want to see more of you than they’ve got.”

As Emily typed, I ended up behind her. I wasn’t going to mess about, but began unbuttoning her dress straight away. She gasped and put up a hand as if to fend me off, but then let her arm drop as she said weakly, “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting your tits out,” I said, as I pulled her dress open to reveal the objects in question.

Cynthia was grinning wickedly as she snapped a couple of shots. “Lovely!” she exclaimed. “I bet George would love to see these!”

“No!” Emily cried. “You mustn’t show them to George! Not ever!”

Cynthia grinned wickedly as I cradled Emily’s large mammaries. “Maybe he’d get the hots for you so bad you wouldn’t have to go online like this.”

“You wouldn’t!” Emily breathed. More messages were appearing on the screen.

Cyn shrugged as I rubbed my thumbs across Emily’s hardened areola. “Of course not,” she said, waiting for Emily to begin typing before adding, “unless I’m feeling very wicked one day.”

Emily paused with her fingers on the keys. “George mustn’t know,” she said. “You know he mustn’t know.”

“Yes,” I said, pinching her nipples as Cynthia snapped some more shots. “You’ve told us enough times.”

“What’s going on in the chat room, Rob?” Cyn asked.

I peered at the screen, only for Emily to tilt the screen before I’d had time to see much. “Whatever it is, she’s expressing a liking for it,” I said.

“This is private!” Emily snapped.

“OK,” Cyn shrugged, putting the camera to one side. “Have it your way. We’ll just wait till you’re finished.” Then, to my delight, she uncrossed her lovely legs and spread them wide. With the micro skirt on, there was nothing to stop both Emily and myself from seeing her naked pussy. “Mind you, all this has made me pretty fucking horny. Rob, love of my life, get over here and suck my cunt!”

She is so wonderful, my wife, but knowing that she’d get the joke, I grumbled, “You only want me for my tongue,” as I let go of Emily’s boobs and ambled over to where my wife was sitting. With my face between her thighs, I couldn’t see the other woman, but with Cyn as wet and horny as she undoubtedly was, I was prepared to forget about Emily for the moment.

Cynthia wasn’t. As I slid my tongue over her, teasing every inch of her leaking pussy, my wife purred, “That’s so good, Rob! You must have the best tongue in the world! Oh, Emily! You have to try it! Don’t you want Rob to lick you while you chat with your virtual fuck buddies?”

I dragged my tongue up to Cyn’s clit, circling, teasing. “Oooooooh! Aaaaaaah!” my wife gasped. “Get your fingers stuck in my pussy, love of my life!”

Behind me was the sound of Emily typing as I slid two fingers inside Cyn, who was by now extremely wet. I wriggled my fingers and tongue, wondering what Emily was typing, simultaneously enjoying the overpowering scent of arousal emanating from my depraved wife.

“Mmmmmm! Aaaaaah! I’m so wet!” Cyn announced. “This is what Rob does when I read your stories, Em.” This was perfectly true. “I read them out loud and get so horny. Big cocks stretching tight fuck holes to breaking point. Yum!”

My wife gave another loud moan. I wondered what Emily was thinking, what she was looking like, but kept up my duty, slithering my tongue over my wife’s swollen nub, digging my two fingers inside her moist pit. Cyn moaned again, in an extraordinarily exaggerated fashion.

“It brings back memories,” Cyn breathed. “I’ve had three men at once many times. You’re right to fantasize about it, Em. It’s the greatest feeling in the world!”

I sucked on my wife’s clit, making her moan louder as Emily typed. Memories were coming back to me now, of being one of a number of men fucking my wife – and not just three. It had been a while now since Cyn had acted the gangbang slut. Maybe it was time again.

“Oooooh, that’s so good!” Cyn moaned. “We could arrange it for you, Em. If you wanted to do it for real. Rob and I know plenty of men with big cocks who’d love to fuck an attractive woman like you. What do you say, Em? We could arrange for your dreams to come true.”

Finally Emily spoke. “It’s impossible,” she said. “I’m married.”

“Mmmm, oh!” Cyn moaned as I shifted my fingers back and forth inside her, lashing at her clit. “George doesn’t need to know,” she breathed. “Maximum discretion and all that.”

Mention of George made it impossible for me to restrain myself. Still working my fingers inside Cyn’s wet pussy, I turned my head. “Does George really have a tiny dick?” I asked.

“That’s none of your business,” Emily fired back, before her fingers moved across the computer keys.

“Why else would she write obsessively about giant cocks?” Cyn said?

“I’m not obsessive,” Emily said.

“Those men in the chat room,” I said. “Are they well hung? Have you got pictures of their big cocks on the screen in front of you as they tell you how they want to stretch that cock-deprived little pussy of yours?”

From the embarrassed look on Emily’s face, I gathered this wasn’t far from the truth, but she said nothing, applying herself to the keyboard again.

“Stand up, dear,” Cynthia said to me.

Something was up, and it wasn’t just my cock, which sprang out into the open as my wife unbuckled my trousers and pulled my boxers down. Emily was saying nothing behind my back, but there was the continued sound of fingers on keyboard. I wrestled my shoes and socks off, along with my trousers.

“Rob’s got a big cock,” Cynthia said. “But you know that Emily, because of how he fucked you a couple of weeks ago. You enjoyed that, didn’t you, Em?”

I turned, standing in the neighbour’s living room in just my shirt, grabbing my hard member and pointing it at Emily.

“It can’t happen again,” Emily said. “I have to consider…”

“George,” Cyn filled in. “George needn’t know. Have we told him about last time?”

“No,” Emily said, keeping her eyes on the computer screen, typing again. “But it’s not right.”

I laughed at this. “And you sitting in a chat...