Karen lets out a deep, throaty groan. I move position around the two other guys, trying to get a better view of my wife with another man’s dick. His thick, shaven erection stands to attention up his belly. Looks like an angry serpent.
I’m going out of my mind.
Karen’s hand looks so small as she stoops and wraps her fingers around his thick shaft.
“Look at her, she fucking loves it” someone shrieks.
Karen’s hand starts to move on the cock.
“Go on baby,” the guy with her murmurs, hands in her hair again, massaging my wife’s head. “Go on baby, go down on me,”
Give him head? In there? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.
Karen releases his shaft. It springs manically in front of them both. Like a drunk jack-in-the-box. She laughs and then holds his waist with both hands. He takes one of her hands. Helps her slowly ease herself down to the floor. To her knees.
The other guys are cheering.
Oh dear God.
“Suck him off!”
Karen looks too far gone with lust to care about having an audience. She’s kissing his iron hard cock almost before her knees reach the floor. He falls back against the cubicle wall. His eyes closed. His sand-colored hair falling over one of his eyes. He lets out a low, slow gasp. Mouth hanging open.
“Oh wow, you’ve sure done this before haven’t you baby” he mumbles, his hands massaging my wife’s hair below the level of his waist.
Not for a very long time she hasn’t.
But he’s right in my wife’s mouth now. The noise! She’s working herself back and forth, back and forth on her knees. Bare tits swinging then crushing against his thighs as she sucks.
My wife sucking off a virtual stranger in a public lavatory. Is this really happening?
The floor must be hard under her bare knees but she doesn’t seem to care
“Turn her round this way so we can see her ass J,” the taller of the two guys out here with me murmurs.
I glance across at his slicked back black hair and dark eyes.
Jamie, the guy having his cock sucked, whispers something down to my wife. Without pausing from her worship she shuffles around on her knees. He leans down over and yanks her dress fully up over her round ass cheeks, gathering it at her waist. The pale orbs of my wife’s buttocks framed by her black suspender belt. Her cheeks split by the ‘V’ of her matching lace panties. All of it displayed to her onlookers.
“Look at that big ass,” one of the other guys laughs, “plenty to grab a hold of.”
Karen’s head is bobbing furiously now. Obscene, pornographic slurping sounds. That noise is my wife. Diving repeatedly backwards and forwards, drawing and releasing another man’s shining giant pink and purple rod into the depths of her mouth.
I feel like I’m going insane. This can’t be happening. She’s only known him a couple of hours. She’s on her knees at his feet with his fat cock plugging her mouth. A mouth that earlier tonight smiled at me, kissed me, asked me how she looked in the same dress that’s crumpled around her waist now.
The guy in the equally crumpled gold shirt is screwing his face up. His hands seem to tighten and coil through my wife’s hair. Karen’s moving frantically now between his legs.
His jaw drops, knees bending. His hips jerking.
Oh God he’s gonna cum.
His glistening cock plops out of Karen’s mouth. A chain of my wife’s spittle like some shiny cobweb connecting her married lips to his young cock. She grabs wildly at his dick, her mouth dropping open, neck jerking like a feeding fish.
Jamie lets out a roar before my wife’s mouth can fully accept him again. His cock and balls spasm. Thick jets of ivory white cum stripe through my wife’s hair. She’s grabbing at his erupting cock, he’s gasping, spurting again, this time over her bare shoulders onto the cubicle wall.
“Fuck me,” one of the other guys mumbles
Inside the cubicle Karen’s head is gripped in both Jamie’s hands. His own head slumping, thighs trembling. Karen looks up from her knees into his eyes. Gently, she massages the statuesque but wilting pole in her hands. She smiles up at him and plants delicate little kisses over the shining head.
Without another word to my wife, Jamie is zipping himself up. He staggers from the cubicle leaving Karen still on her knees. His cum streaked through her hair and some on the front of her dress.
“Feel better for that, but I need a fucking drink,” he adjusts his own hair in one of the mirrors.
Frozen with what I’ve witnessed I look back to my wife. She’s trying to get to her feet. Stockings laddered at the knee. She’s adjusting her dress back down over her ass, seemingly unaware her hair is iced with his cum.
“I’m next,” someone shoves past me in to the cubicle.
Chapter Seven
My brain can’t deal with what I’m witnessing. Say something Benjamin. Do something. Anything!
“Get back down there honey, I need me some MILF action like my buddy got.” A short guy with his head shaven at the sides but weirdly long and wavy on top is pushing Karen back down to her knees. One of the other guys we saw with Jamie in the VIP room. He’s unzipping himself in her face. Lowering his pants.
My chest is caving in, I’m holding my breath. Nervous-sounding laughter next to me.
Karen waits on her knees. Her big tits hanging half out of her dress. Her hair dishevelled and snarled with another man’s spent cum.
“Oh man. How fucking hot is this?” someone else has joined the group and whispers in between swigs from his beer bottle.
The guy in front of Karen has his trousers around his ankles. He’s feeding a stumpy little erection towards her mouth.
I’m hallucinating, I must be.
“Pencil dick” someone yells. Laughter.
“Mind you don’t get lead poisoning honey,” more laughter.
But Karen lifts her chin. Her lips part and her mouth accepts him. He groans slowly.
Tell me this is a dream.
He carefully picks two handfuls of my wife’s hair, grips them and then he’s off. Ramming himself at Karen’s head. Slapping into her. Making her tits fly. Face–fucking my wife. His balls smacking under her chin. I want to cry out; I should cry out, tell him to stop, to leave her alone.
So much noise sucking him. He’s grabbing at her hair, grunting, pulling at her ears with both hands. I think she squeals.
I can’t get my breath. He’s roaring, holding her head tight to his groin. His ass muscles clenching. Karen’s gagging, struggling trying to free her face from him. He may be small but he’s holding her tight.
His head and shoulders slump forward. He dissolves in a cascade of mumbled abuse at my wife.
Why would he call her those things after what she’s just done for him? Karen spits out his cock. A stream of his cum oozes over her jaw, down her neck and onto the front her new dress.
Oh my God my beautiful wife.
“Get out of there inch-high.” The little guy is all but dragged away from my still-kneeling wife by the guy with slicked-back hair. “I’m not putting my cock where you two scumbags have stuck yours.”
This guy is powerfully built, like he works out. He lowers the toilet lid and then leans over Karen. He hauls my cum-spattered wife across the floor and pushes her head and shoulders over the toilet.
“Get your ass up. I want to fuck you.”
No.
I expect her to refuse, to protest, to jump to her feet. He yanks the back of her dress right up over her ass. Purrs of approval. Tugging the back of her lace panties high up into her ass. Grunting as both hands rip her panties apart and off her.
Karen shrieks.
“Mmmm,” his wide hand strokes across the pale flesh of her bare buttocks. Karen’s head and shoulders move, as if she’s making herself more comfortable. His hand travels downward and underneath, between my wife’s legs. Kneading her. She moans.
She moaned at his touch.
He pushes her head forwar
d and down so that it’s almost behind the toilet. Then he’s fumbling with his flies.
“Go on Stan, get it up her!” Jaime in the gold shirt, the first guy Karen sucked off is back again. Condensation droplets on the neck of the fresh beer in his hand. A piercing blue eye winks at me and then widens as he stares into the cubicle. “Give it to her bud; she’s sex-starved.”
My wife squeals as she’s entered from behind. I stagger backwards away from the cubicle. My knees have buckled and I fall against one of the wash basins.
“Karen,” I whisper, my knuckles tight on the basin, clinging, trying to stop my head spinning.
From inside the cubicle, the other side of the guys watching, comes the sound of Karen panting. Violent, savage blows as their bodies beat together. Carnal gasps and grunts.
She sounds like she’s going to cum. Already? In there? With him?
I lurch back across the washroom. A guy on his knees with his cock up my wife. Fingers, digging into her plump ass. Knuckles white. His buttocks tense and release. Frenzied he stabs and sinks himself up her.
Karen’s crying out. Like she’s unaware or couldn’t care less that people are watching. Swearing, like she’s making some obscene religious vows as she’s ploughed.
“Slap her ass Stan,” Jamie in the gold shirt laughs and gulps his beer. Stan obeys and Karen yelps.
But she’s moaning heavier now. His hand slaps her again. Then again. All the while thrusting his full length deep up inside my wife. He spanks her steadily, carefully; like he’s trying to evenly cover both her hips and ass. Like a Michelin starred chef tenderizing steak. Confidently, as if he's treated numerous other pieces of meat the same way. Slapping my wife like I’d never dream of doing to her. Like I’d never have imagined she’d take, or so obviously enjoy.
Pink paw prints on her cheeks. His other hand grips her screwed up dress around the small of her back, like a giant jockey breaking in his mare. Then he’s grabbing at her tits, pulling them away from the toilet lid and pinching at her nipples.
Karen howls. Wails like I’ve never heard her. Like a fresh widow in black performing a public display of her grief.
She’s cumming on his cock.
Karen’s wedding finger slips as she tries to grip around the ceramic of the toilet. Her eyes screwed shut, mouth open in a silent scream. She orgasms. Her whole body shaking to a climax with this complete stranger.
Karen...
His ass cheeks stiffen. He yells something at her. Falls forward over her.
Seizing, snatching at his breath. Laughing and panting at the same time.
He’s cum inside her. He’s cum inside my wife.
He yanks his red cock out of my whimpering wife and hauls himself up from his knees to his feet. Karen remains slumped over the toilet seat.
“Let me get out first,” the big guy says putting his cock away.
“Well fucking hurry up!” another guy hands me his beer bottle. I think he’s the one who wandered down here a few minutes ago. His hand moves over the front his chinos, stroking himself.
The guy who just fucked my wife guy excuses himself as he passes me on his way to the wash basins.
In the cubicle now the guy with the chinos has his cock in his fist. He’s jerking himself steadily, staring down at Karen crumpled on the floor. At some point I must have taken mine from my pants because it’s in my hand as I watch from outside the booth.
“What the fuck?” a voice shouts from way down the bathroom, near the entrance. “You again?” It’s the security guard who lectured me outside the ladies. He’s striding towards us. The toilet cubicle slams closed in my face, locking my wife inside with the guy jerking over her.
“Out!” the security guard yells at me, “Zip yourself up and then you’re out of the club.” A thick index finger stabs at me.
Epilogue
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Karen, happy birthday to you.” I’m singing the words along with the people either side of me, but my head is elsewhere. I stare across the restaurant table at my wife. She adjusts the string of pearls I’ve bought for her birthday and moves a lock of her thick brown hair around an ear. Next to her, Karen’s sister is recounting some prank or other that the pair of them got up together at high school.
Karen looks like any other well-preserved and sexy 40 year old housewife here amongst family and friends. She looks almost like she always has. But I wonder whether anyone else can see the slightest change to the look in her eye? Or maybe that’s just my imagination.
Which of these people around us would ever guess what she’d done? Or what her loving husband had witnessed her doing.
She leans across to say something to one of her friends and I find myself staring at her mouth. Lips that wrapped themselves so tightly around two stranger’s erections in a public lavatory only two nights ago. Pleasuring those strangers until they physically climaxed.
Karen moves position on her seat. Sitting on that beautiful round ass that another man’s heavy hands mauled and slapped around while he pounded her on her hands and knees.
Underneath the table my balls tighten at the memory. My cock slowly throbs.
My wife takes a sip of her birthday champagne, looks across and smiles shyly at me. She’s been shy too about discussing what happened with those young guys. I haven’t pushed her to talk about it. I can’t seem to find the right words to bring the subject up. But I’ve tried to reassure her all the same. Little things like trying to show that if anything, my love for her is stronger, more intense because of what happened.
When I can find the words, maybe after a little more time has passed, I want her to know she doesn’t have to stop now that it’s happened that first time.
A Final Thank You
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