Party Girl

When I reached the grim milestone of my 30th birthday, my wife and I decided to break the tradition of us spending birthdays together, just the two of us, and instead have a proper party.

With some planning, we managed to get most of our friends, a bit of music and a lot of alcohol into the house on the same Saturday night (which is not as easy as you think it’s going to be when you’re in your teens). As Cathy and I had got older, we had found more and more excuses to do less and less. Work stress and boring grown-up commitments had kept us both content to limit our horizons. But we were only 10 minutes in the evening when I decided that it had been worth it; the group of friends I had through my teens and early 20s might not have seen each other very often now, but as soon as we got them in a room together, the chemistry was still right there.

Each of my friends had chosen a different path in life but were each happy in their own way. The corporate accountants and computer scientists drinking beer with painters and sculptors and handymen and teachers. I have always been lucky to have a fantastic gang of girls mixed in with the boys. I had had the odd fling with one or two of them as is normal in a group of friends as they grow up together. Several of the girls were my firsts for things like dances, kisses or blow jobs. Despite this, my wife moved easily amongst the girls; she had been friends with them in her own right for years and knew that no one had any designs on her husband, decades after teenage hormones had dissipated.

I joined my wife in a conversation with three of the girls, Kim, Amy and Dinah as they swapped stories, caught up on each other’s lives and told jokes. It was pretty clear that Dinah was drunker than the rest of the group. She had always been a bit of a wild child and had not settled down in quite the same way as the rest of us. She owned a business selling cannabis products (legally) and a side business selling actual cannabis (illegally). It had been her that had given me my first blow job all those years before. She had acted like it was no big deal and that was entirely in keeping with her style of carefree living.

“Hi, sweety.” Cathy said as I joined them, kissing me on the cheek as I slipped an arm around her waist. “The girls were just telling me the story about you dressing up as Britney Spears for Amy’s birthday when you were 18. Something about getting hit on by a teacher in the local pub?” I had a lifetime’s worth of embarrassing anecdotes, known to the participants of the party, and it would’ve taken hours to share all of them. Amy had obviously launched into one of the better ones that involved me, in drag, fending off the advances of male teacher who hadn’t recognised me outside the gents toilets. It was not my finest hour.

I shared a look with Dinah; I was pretty sure she was thinking the same thing as I was, something not known to anyone else in the room. That night, after I’d escaped the clutches of the mathematics teacher, Dinah and I had ended up back at her parents’ house having clumsy, drunken sex. She had had a boyfriend at the time, and I have been unsuccessfully trying to date Kim so we had agreed we wouldn’t talk about it with the others, but it was something we had hinted at to each other whenever we were being flirty.

I left the girls to their anecdotes and went and joined a group of boys over in the kitchen who were discussing 1990s film and TV, particularly whether Gillian Anderson is more attractive in series 1 of X-Files or 30 years later in The Fall. A consensus seems to be forming that Gillian Anderson had somehow defied the linear nature of time and was getting more attractive with every day that passed (not something that could be said for most of us). Dinah came over to join our group and slotted easily in the conversation. She was bisexual, or at least a little bit curious, and so had some interesting observations on Dana Scully’s influence during her formative sexual years. Just as she had been for the boys. I looked over Dinah as she talked and was impressed by how she, herself, had aged. She was a bit older than when we’d fucked for hours after Amy’s birthday but more than any of us, she had kept her youthful, carefree appearance.

While we were talking, Dinah proved she could still shock me as she set up, and then did, a small bump of coke, offering the same to everyone else in the group. Everyone said no. None of us were puritans but Dinah was the only one that had continued with anything like regular drug use. I didn’t really judge her for it, but if you were the only person doing a particular drug, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it at that party. As the conversation continued, Dinah moved closer and closer to my side, first resting her hand on my shoulder and then putting it around my waist. I could see Cathy across the room, who had missed none of Dinah’s activities. She gave me a mock-serious look and wagged her finger at me. My wife had always intuited that Dinah retained a bit of a crush on me, but I knew she trusted me and her faith was well placed. That said, I never missed a chance to fuck with her…

While making eye contact with my wife, I reach down and rested my hand on Dinah’s firm, round butt cheek. Cathy pulled a scandalised face, so I stuck out my tongue at her, which earned me a sexually charged scowl. Dinah, unaware that I was making eyes at my wife, did a shimmy and wiggled her bum under my touch. Although I was doing it to wind up my better half, I took a lot of pleasure from feeling the thin line of Dinah’s G-string through the flimsy material of her dress. Dinah had always had a fantastic butt, and the chance to grab a sneaky feel was too good to miss. But once I had satiated myself, I decided I had taken that particular joke far enough so I let my hand drop back to my side. Dinah, however, kept her arm around my waist. Cathy rolled her eyes and went back to her conversation.

____________________________________________

Towards the end of the night, once everyone was more than a little drunk, I was in the kitchen refilling the ice bowl when I got cornered by Dinah. She was a short, curvy, exotic looking girl with olive skin that seemed tanned all year round, making her stand-out amongst the pale English Roses of our hometown. She stood close to me, well within my personal space, but I was enjoying the view and the scent of her shampoo and perfume so I didn’t mind.

“You know, I’m not sure I’ve actually wished you a happy birthday yet.” she said, with a slight breathy tone to her voice.

“It’s not technically until tomorrow but I think I got the message anyway.” I said. I wasn’t really a big one for making a fuss of such occasions which was why we had not been holding such in parties previous years — doing an event ‘just for me’ made my self-depreciating skin crawl.

“No, no, no.” She said, wiggling her body in time with the words. “I need to say happy birthday to you.” She insisted drunkenly.

“I think you just did, didn’t you?”

“No, properly…” Dinah said as she lent in and up on to her tiptoes trying to reach me for a kiss. I deftly moved back at the exact same rate as she moved forward, keeping a safe distance between our lips even as she put her hands on my chest to try and hold me in position. Dinah was pretty, sexy, carefree and (from what I remembered) uninhibited in the sack; but I was in love with, and devoted to, Cathy in a way that had made doing the right thing in these situations an easy task.

I did little sidestep and easily slipped past the drunk girl, already feeling guilty for leading her on earlier.

“Come on Din,”, I said. “you know we can’t do that. We haven’t done that in about a decade.”

“I know,” she panted, “but I miss it. I miss you…” I knew this was almost certainly the booze and drugs talking, but she had a very small point; we had been such fantastic friends in the past but these days there were always such demands on my time that relationships like this one had been put on the back-burner.

“I miss you too,” I conceded “but I am married now, and have been quite a long time, so I can’t be kissing girls in the kitchen. Even if they are old friends. And are as pretty as you.” This cowardly act of flattery seemed to placate Dinah. We chatted good naturedly for a few more minutes before she let me get on with filling the ice bowl.

____________________________________________

The rest of the night was a great success and I was thrilled to spend it with my friends altogether in the same place for the first time in a long time. By the time the party ended, I didn’t even feel that drunk as I had done more hosting than drinking but it had been fantastic to see them. One by one, they started to disappear, making excuses to leave saying they had to relieve the babysitter, or the work following day or do some middle-age pass time in the morning.

Everyone was heading back to their own homes, apart from Dinah who lived in Leeds and therefore had arranged to stay the night with us in our spare room. Before the party had started, Cathy had made up the bed, put clean towels on the side, and made sure that there was shampoo, conditioner and shower gel in the en-suite bathroom.

As the last guest, apart from Dinah, went out the front door, Cathy and I threw ourselves into tidying the house so that it wasn’t a complete mess in the morning. Dinah excused herself and went upstairs to shower and get ready for bed. She was still definitely the drunkest person in the house. Cathy started washing up a huge pile of glasses and plates that had been used in the evening while I moved the furniture back into the correct rooms.

One of the chairs that we had used in the living room was actually from the guest room, sitting in front of the make-up mirror in the corner. I carried it upstairs carefully to avoid scraping the legs on the walls and then stopped outside the guest bedroom. I could hear the shower running, so figured it was probably safe to nip in, drop off the chair, and get out again without being spotted. Using my elbow, I turned the handle and pushed the door open. I was halfway across the room when I realised my mistake.

It wasn’t the shower that was running, but the tap in the sink. And no sooner had I opened the door than it turned off and Dinah opened the door from the en suite and stepped into the guest bedroom. She had obviously been quick in the shower and stood there in a towel wrapped tight around her body (in that incredibly neat way the girls seem to manage instinctively) and she had another, smaller, towel wrapped around her damp hair.

Immediately several emotions ran through me and probably over my face, I was surprised by the doors opening, I was embarrassed to have imposed on a guest in this way and I was excited by being so close to a girl who was wearing only a towel. Dinah only had one look on her face, which was a smirk of self-satisfaction, presumably from catching me exactly where she wanted me. I mumbled my apologies, shoved the chair under the make-up table and then started to beat my retreat to the door, but Dinah intercepted me, again with their hands on my chest. She tried to kiss me but, while a single version of me would have loved to, the married version dodged, dipped, ducked, dived and dodged to keep myself from connecting with her lips.

When her initial approach failed, she panted as she had before and started to plead. “Come on, please just kiss me for a while, we won’t do anything more than that?”

I resisted again. With the words that, unbeknownst to me at the time, we are about to save my marriage (and also open the door to an extraordinary event), I said “Look Dinah, I’ve told you once already, this is not happening. I love my wife, I am never going to do anything that hurts her. Even if it’s with someone I care about.”

I was facing the door and Dinah had her back to it. No sooner was I finished talking than I saw Cathy’s head around the corner where she was stood in the corridor. She was holding a large glass of water, which must’ve been for her to give to Dinah to lessen the hangover in the morning. I suspected she had come up the stairs just behind me but had not been heard as I heaved the heavy chair in front of me. Her expression was a curious one. She was obviously furious, but she did not seem entirely unhappy or miserable, instead her fury made her face come alive, like when you watch a confident boxer in the ring.

Still unaware of our audience, Dinah tried again. “Please.” She begged. “Please. I’ve been single for months, and my ex was such a bad match for me. And seeing you with Cathy tonight just makes me remember how good it was with you. I just want to feel that again. Let me do that thing that you like? I did that for you long before you ever even met Cathy? She can keep you, I promise, I just want to borrow you for 2 minutes.”

I was about to answer, mindful now of our observer, when Cathy stormed into the room. “You fucking bitch!” She screamed, dropping the glass on the carpet. The sound of her voice and the impact made Dinah leap with fright. Her eyes grew huge in their sockets, but she didn’t turn around, instead fixing me with a pleading stare. My wife, still closing the distance screamed again. “You fucking whore!”

I had been dragging Cathy along to jujitsu with me, twice a month this year, for the exercise and the self-defence benefits. It had felt like a ‘good husband’ thing to do. I regretted it the moment I saw Cathy loop a slim arm under Dinah’s chin and around her neck. A swift kick to the back of her knee caused her to fall but her downward motion was arrested by the-python-tight choke that my wife had applied. “What the fuck?!” Dinah managed to exclaim before all of the oxygen was shut off from her brain. Cathy was still yelling. “You little bitch! You fuck up every relationship you are in, and now you think you can ruin mine!? You are fucking pathetic! I should snap your head off your neck right now!”

I didn’t intervene at first. Cathy was justified in feeling angry and, had the roles been reversed, I would’ve been throwing punches like Connor McGregor. I was also confident I would be able to stop things getting out of hand. My wife was a level-headed person and I thought this was just her initial reaction. Dinah was already crying and trying to apologise but Cathy kept the pressure on her neck making her turn red in the face. She continued to berate Dinah, screaming at her for trying to steal her husband. A bit more pressure went onto Dinah’s neck and the chokehold bit a little deeper, Dinah spluttered a croak in response. That was my cue to step in.

Holding my hands in front of me, palms down at waist-height, I used a soft but firm voice. “Okay darling, okay. I think you’ve made your point. We’ve all had a bit to drink. Why don’t we just get Dinah a taxi and she can go and stay with Kim?” Dinah looked up at me from her knees with her eyes watering and tried to nod her agreement with my plan. Sadly, my wife was having none of it.

“No fucking way. She has been trying to get her hands on you for years and tried it several times tonight. If she wants you so bad, she can fucking have you!”

Panic mode.

Suddenly this had become about me and I was really, really regretting teasing Cathy by grabbing Dinah’s arse earlier in the evening. I now thought I was going to be the one leaving in a taxi. I had, however misjudged the situation again. In an evening of misjudging the situation this was my widest of the mark.

“Yeah,” Cathy spat. “If she’s so fucking sure she wants you to fuck her, then I think you SHOULD fuck her.” I did not know where she was going with this logic but my sense of panic was not going away. She didn’t seem to be angry with me, Dinah was still the target, but my name was getting dragged into this. “Would you like that, you fucking whore? Do you want to fuck my husband? You’ve been trying hard enough. I think I’m going to give you what you wished for. But I promise you, you won’t like it.”

What the fuck?

I had no idea where she was she going with this. Cathy was squatting down behind Dinah who was on her knees, holding her head and neck in a vice-like grip. She looked up at me and said “Come on honey, get your dick out. Let’s give her what she wants.”

As an aside, Cathy and I had been on an increasingly dark journey of sexual exploration recently. The sex had become rougher with her wanting me to hurt her. I had tied her up, fucked her throat, and abused her pussy. And she had loved it (I was obviously a fan as well). We had also started watching porn together, a thing we had never done before. I had been in for a shock. If you ever click on ‘porn for women’ on an adult website, what you get are videos with better acting and more plot and less spit. When we explored Cathy’s desires, however, that is not what she wanted to see. It turned out that what she loved was watching Manuel Ferrara dominate a girl until she was a cum-soaked mess. She wanted to see women made to degrade themselves for the pleasure of their man. Her favourite videos were old ones from Hell Fire Sex, a website that had a single, unique selling point; a man and a woman would work together to dominate another girl. She would be whipped, stripped and forced to please them both.

Talking through these videos with my wife it turned out, that what got her going was the power differential. She could imagine herself in the role of either woman and both situations turned her on. This was interesting to me because in bed, Cathy was becoming increasingly submissive, but in our real lives my wife was no wallflower and was a confident, assertive woman who had no problems telling people what she wanted. That was why it was such a revelation that she was happy to be gagged and fucked in bed. Hearing her talk about the desire to be the dominant woman in a threesome, I offered to see if she wanted to dominate me as a switch, but she was not interested at all. The thing that got her going about Hell Fire Sex was that it was almost a greater submission for Cathy to force a third party to submit to me, than to do it herself. We had these conversations at great length, partly because I enjoyed them so much because Cathy would often be sucking me off or stroking me with her hand as we did so.

With all of this as context, Cathy’s insane demand that I get my cock out was slightly less bat-shit. Even so, this was not really a safe or moral thing to do, and my earlier thought that I would be able to stop things getting out of control had lasted about 10 seconds before it had been dumped on its head.

Looked down at Dinah, the towel that had wrapped her hair had slipped to the floor. Her damp hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. The towel around her body had come undone at the front in the struggle. Cathy was pressing it to Dinah’s back, so it had not fallen off entirely, but I could see an uninterrupted view of Dinah’s naked body. Below her bright red face and panicked eyes, her beautiful, round, firm breasts shook and jiggled as she tried to fight off my wife. Further down I saw the complete absence of pubic hair, something Dinah often joked about in her off-colour way. I couldn’t believe I was even thinking about it, but it turns out I do a lot of my thinking with my dick, so with only a little more encouragement from Cathy, I unzipped my trousers and tugged my cock out of my flies.

Now, whenever Rocco Siffredi is in a similar situation, a perfect, diamond cutter of a hard-on appears as soon as he requires it. Sadly, this is one of the many things that Rocco and I do not share. But while it was not ready to bang nails in with yet, I was not exactly starting from zero, so my heavy cock hovered over Dinah’s head. Cathy tightened her grip on Dinah’s neck and pressed forward with her body, so her victim was forced closer to me.

“Suck it, you fucking whore. That’s what you came here to do isn’t it?” My wife hissed. Dinah screwed up her face and turned away from me while pursing her lips together as tightly as she could. That suited me just fine for now so I stepped towards the kneeling girl and started to rub my thickening dick on her face. Starting at her hairline and working down over her eye sockets, nose and mouth; I used her skin for my sensory pleasure. Dinah clearly hated being treated in this way, trying to wriggle and squirm away from me at every touch while also fighting to breath against Cathy’s vicious chokehold.

Once I had achieved the full weight, if not the full hardness that I wanted, I started using it to hit Dinah in the face, causing further struggles. I began with little taps on her cheeks but Cathy urged me to do more despicable deeds. “Fucking fuck that bitch up.” She said with less than her trademark eloquence. “Make her our whore.” Jesus, this was getting intense. Using my rod, I slapped Dinah hard in the face repeatedly, enjoying her discomfort and shame.

When she could see that I had achieved full hardness, Cathy growled into Dinah’s ear. “Now suck his dick, you bitch.” Dinah protested, struggling against Cathy’s hold on her neck but she was held tightly. “Make her do it, honey.” Cathy said to me. “I want to see her choke on your dick.” Dinah looked panicked, kneeling at my feet, but the way my wife was talking like an audition for Brazzers was driving me nuts. So, with one hand, I grabbed Dinah’s cheeks either side of her lips and squeezed until she opened her mouth enough that I could angle in the head of my cock. Again, she tried to turn her face away but Cathy would not let her.

Between Cathy pushing towards me and me pushing towards Cathy I got my dick seated into Dinah’s mouth, despite her resistance. Once I was in, I moved both hands to the side of her head and gripped her hair firmly, entwining my fingers into the strands. Once I was holding her, Cathy released her hold. Dinah gasped for air around my shaft, fully able to breathe for the first time in minutes. Poor Dinah, that wasn’t going to last.

I started pulling her face towards my groin while pushing my cock into the back of her mouth. She was making no attempt to suck me so I was going to have to fuck her face. Cathy came round to the side so she could see what was happening and talk right into Dinah’s ear. “Is this what you wanted, you fucking bitch?” she snarled. Dinah made no reply; she was in full panic mode and unsure what to do. Her long-term friend / previous lover was forcing himself on her while his wife degraded, assaulted and abused her. This probably wasn’t a problem she had anticipated.

Blowjobs given with enthusiasm, attention and affection are brilliant. This was not one of them. I was merely using the hole in her face to get myself off, she was not really doing anything back. Despite this, I was enjoying myself immensely as her warm, wet mouth encased my angry, red cock. I was also enjoying the way my wife was controlling the action.

I had been humping her face for what seemed like a long time before she even realised that her hands were now free and she could use them to try and push me away. Unluckily for her, her position gave no leverage and I was easily able to ignore her pushing and grasping hands. Cathy got up from the floor and came around behind me. Reaching around my waist she undid my belt and my trousers. I assumed this was so I could get Dinah down to the base of my dick and Cathy be able to watch, but again, as usual, I was wrong.

Cathy tugged my trousers down to my ankles where I set to kicking them off while keeping hold of Dinah. Meanwhile, Cathy quickly stripped my belt out of the belt loops on my jeans. She went back behind Dinah and growled in her ear. “Now you listen here you little fuck tart. My husband is my husband. You don’t get to try and interfere with our marriage. But, as you said you want to borrow him, then I’ll allow it, but on my terms. And my terms are severe. Now first you are going to suck him off. And you are going to make it good. If you don’t, you will be punished.”

Dinah tried to shout something but with my tool in her mouth all we got were muffled noises that certainly didn’t sound like acquiescence. Nor did her actions suggest that she was listening to Cathy. She kept her mouth open and allowed me to push my thick shaft between her lips but she was taking no active part. She was also still pushing against my thighs to try to create some space. She was arching her back away from me like a cat trying to cough up a hairball and her body language was all about resistance.

“I’m not giving warnings tonight. Do what I tell you straight away.” Cathy said and then brought my belt down in a stinging crack across Dinah’s shoulder blades. The action surprised two thirds of the people in the room. Dinah jerked her head back and howled with pain. I, unprepared, let her head go as she moved so quickly. As she reeled backwards, Cathy caught her hair and gripped it tightly. She hissed into Dinah’s ear, “I. Said. Suck. Him.” Then she pushed her face back forward towards me.

Dinah was still too shocked from the stinging slap of the belt to do anything useful, so I grabbed her hair again and pulled her down on my cock but, once again, she was the dumb recipient not the active participant. This proved to be a mistake. Cathy raised and brought down the belt again, this time lower on her back across where her kidneys sat. It made another deafening crack. Dinah leapt like she had been shot, but I was ready for her this time, so her head stayed in place while her arms and legs flailed.

After that, Cathy started thrashing her with the thick leather belt; raining down blows across every bit of visible skin. My wife can be a little fiery and direct when she knows what she wants, but I had never seen her behave like this. This wasn’t a gentle spanking; she was causing real physical pain to this girl. And this was a girl we were friends with, despite her poor behaviour tonight. I felt guilty. I would have felt more so, but it was impossible to have an ethical debate with myself while a beautiful naked girl was flogged at my feet for my enjoyment. Cathy and I had discussed scenarios exactly like this as roleplay and suddenly my fantasy was playing out right in front of me. And I was a part of it.

Tears stream down Dinah’s face as she winced with every impact, but she was finally starting to get the hint. She moved her hands to the base of my cock and, for the first time, closed her lips around my shaft and started to give proper head. She arched her back like a cat stretching, the beautiful curve of her spine let me see the damage my wife had wrought. Dinah’s back was crisscrossed with angry red welts. Interestingly, only one or two were on her butt cheeks, somewhere Cathy herself loved to be spanked, and I thought (consciously or unconsciously) Cathy had done this to reduce the possibility of Dinah enjoying the torment. She was flushed all over her body with her skin taking on a pink tone under her olive complexion but the places where the belt had bitten into her were raised and very, very red.

Cathy was breathing hard from the exertion, and her face was alive with energy. She tossed her hair back into a neater position and dropped the belt on the floor. She pulled off her top and kicked off her jeans, leaving her in a matching set of dark red, silky lingerie that I had never seen before. I was sure this was meant to have been part of my birthday present if we hadn’t been interrupted by Dinah’s bad behaviour. In what might be the sexiest move I have ever seen, Cathy locked eyes and, with a sexy smile, walked straight towards me for a kiss, ignoring the girl on her knees between us. She crashed her lips against mine and we kissed passionately and deeply. The extraordinary part was that she used her groin to pin Dinah to my cock, pushing her hips forward and forcing Dinah to go deeper and deeper.

As a display of dominance, I can’t think of anything that would top Cathy thrusting her hips back and forth, pressing the back of Dinah’s head closer to her husband so that she had no option but to suck deeper, faster, and harder. The previously noisy room, filled with smacks and shouted exhortations was now silent but for the wet sounds of lips, tongues and cocks meeting.

This would go down as the most erotic kiss of my life. My wife, who I loved dearly, was forcing another girl to pleasure me while she also kissing me like we were teenagers. It was extraordinary. Having Cathy to hold Dinah in place freed up my hands to roam across my wife’s body, stroking, grabbing and kneading at her beautiful curves. When our kissing reached its natural conclusion, Cathy took a step back, allowing Dinah to slump on the floor. Interestingly, she didn’t try to get away, she just stayed there, catching her breath and staring at the ground. Cathy continued to ignore her. She looked deep into my eyes and said something shocking but thrilling.

“I want to see you fuck her.” She said.

Dinah looked up from her position on the floor and gazed into my eyes. She was afraid, for sure, she already looked exhausted, but she didn’t say no and she didn’t try to stop me. I bent down and scooped her up in my arms then dropped her on the bed.

Cathy was on her in a flash. She grabbed a fist-full of Dinah’s hair and started dragging her around the bed. By climbing up into the centre of the mattress, she gave her captive no option but to follow and in moments, Dinah was centred on the bed, face down with Cathy holding her head still. From the minute her towel had dropped off, she had been entirely naked, so even as my wife manoeuvred her, I couldn’t help but stare at her gorgeous, shapely, olive skinned arse. From where I was stood, I could see between her cheeks and see her rosebud and, below it, just a hint of her puffy lips peeking out at me.

“Go on, do it. Fuck her.” I looked to my wife, she was excitedly looking at her prone hostage. She was really getting off on being in charge and I wondered how much her actions were guided by a desire for vengeance and how much they were guided by desire itself. Dinah whimpered as I climbed onto the bed and straddled her legs. Cathy harshly told her to shut up. I crawled my way along her supine body and she flinched when my dangling, spit-slick cock dragged up the back of her thigh. I settled myself just south of her arse and spat in my hand, before rubbing the wetness around her lips. She flinched again as my fingers came in contact with scorching hot, waxed labia.

“No, wait!” gasped Dinah, but it was too late. I had my dick in my hand and I lined it up with her hole. I started to press my hips forward; Dinah groaned and arched her back at my intrusion but Cathy held her still.

“This is what you came here for, wasn’t it? You came to try and steal my husband, well guess what? Now you’ve got him, and you don’t look that thrilled. I need to see some enthusiasm from you or I will make this much, much worse.”

For my part, I WAS thrilled. Penetrating Dinah’s tight pussy felt fantastic, even if I only had the head of my cock inside her. Of course, such things are addictive, and I couldn’t help but press forward more, forcing her to take inch after each inch.

Dinah continued to groan as my meat filled her up. She wriggled constantly, trying to get some purchase on the bed but Cathy was holding her down with a fistful of her hair. There was nowhere for her to go. Eventually, I was seated fully inside her so paused at that depth, enjoying her tightness as she struggled with me. Still with a firm grip of her hair, Cathy lent over and kissed me on the mouth. I don’t know how we had ended up in that situation, but at that moment it felt like we were closer than ever.

“Now show her what you can do.” My wife ordered me. Cathy loved being prone-boned. It was one of her favourite positions, not least because of how submissive it made her feel. I rested my weight on Dinah’s back, gripping either side of her rib cage, and started to pump my hips forwards and back, drawing myself in and out of her tight slit. “Yes, yes, fuck. Fuck her harder.” My wife urged me on, while stripping off her bra and pants.

Dinah’s only contribution to this entire act, other than being the vessel for my manhood, was to groan. She was clearly uncomfortable being sandwiched between us, but I could also feeling feel her getting slippery and wet as I fucked her again and again. I transferred all my body-weight through one arm, putting it all onto one side of Dinah’s rib cage. She grunted in response, and with my now-free hand I reached out for my wife, first cupping a breast, then as much of her as I could reach. I was loving fucking my old friend, and the manner that we were doing it was only making things hotter, but I wanted my wife to be very clear I still only loved her. My wife was obviously not feeling as insecure as I had feared, though. She batted away hand and said “Oh honey, don’t worry about me, I will get mine.”

She climbed her way onto the bed until she was in front of Dinah. She swung a leg up and over the girl’s head, so she was straddling her, then scooted closer until her wet pussy touched the top of Dinah’s sideways head. Through all of this, I kept up a fast and deep rhythm. Sweat was already breaking out all over my body but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity so I knew I had to grit my teeth and make the most of every second.

Cathy reached forwards with both hands and lifted Dinah’s face so she was looking up at her tormentor. “You’re a free spirit aren’t you, Dinah? You like to live on the wild side? Don’t you? Have you ever been with a girl before?” Dinah stiffened underneath me, realising what was likely to come next. “Get your fucking mouth on me bitch. I want you to make me cum.”

This was a fascinating development.

Cathy was not a lesbian. She wasn’t even bi, as far as I knew. But when we had role-played scenarios like this in the past, she had used the thought of forcing a straight girl to lick her out as yet another form of degradation to subject our submissive to. That said, from where I was, I could look directly at my wife’s sweet pussy and see the glistening moisture that told me that this was not entirely an act.

Dinah wriggled uncomfortably as she tried to turn her face away from my wife’s glistening lips. Cathy’s hands held her in place though and I used pressure on the back of her neck to push her forward into her task. Still lacking the compliance she demanded, Cathy swung a sharp, stinging slap to Dinah’s face, delivered with a crazy smile. This seemed to do the trick though.

“That’s it, do it! “Hissed Cathy as Dinah’s tongue grazed the bare skin around her pussy. I pushed harder on Dinah’s head and was rewarded with a theatrical sigh as Cathy made it clear that Dinah had started using her tongue in earnest. “That’s it, bitch; lick my cunt.”

I resumed my thrusting, jiggling Dinah backwards and forwards on the bed as I pounded her from above. Cathy continued to dig her fingernails into the side of her slave’s head, ensuring she didn’t break from her task of serving her. I looked into my wife’s eyes and she gazed back, I had never seen her look so lustful. She was wild. Her hair was all over the place, her make-up was smudged at the corners of her eyes, but she looked like a queen nonetheless.

Dinah, on the other hand, looked thoroughly beaten. She had entirely acquiesced to the fucking that I was giving her, and was no longer even protesting about having to orally service my wife. She was now firmly in survival mode, doing whatever she was told in order to avoid further punishment.

That did not necessarily mean that she wasn’t getting anything out of it though. The more I fucked her, the more her breathing deepened. And, every so often, a particularly deep thrust would elicit a groan from our captive. At the same time, I don’t know whether it was the booze or the taboo of having a woman lick her; or if Dinah was just much more skilled than I was (which was probably the truth) but Cathy was also quickly ramping up the heights of pleasure. I could see the tell-tale red flush spreading across her chest as well as hearing increasingly strained exhortations to Dinah to lick harder and faster.

She started using the motion of her hips to get Dinah’s tongue exactly into the spot she wanted and, before any of us knew what was happening, suddenly my wife was coming. She had only received a few minutes of attention, but the emotional intensity in the room was playing havoc with her self-control.

The orgasm was the loud and showy the type that you see in porn films, which wasn’t Cathy’s normal style, but it was also very, very real. Cathy dragged her pussy up and down Dinah’s face while Dinah lapped furiously at whatever was put in front of her. Cathy, in turn, exhausted her vocabulary of profanity in telling us all (and probably the neighbours) exactly how good it felt to be eaten by a woman. I could see the spasming in Cathy’s abdomen as her muscles went crazy with pleasure. Her toes curled and even her cute nose scrunched up as her entire body tensed and flexed under the waves of sensation assaulting her. As the orgasm peaked and started to subside, Cathy shocked us all again by pulling Dinah’s face up and out of her soaking cunt and swinging another vicious slap that made Dinah squeal with pain.

“Flip that bitch over.” Cathy said harshly, seemingly having shaken off her orgasmic buzz in a heartbeat. I did as I was told, keen to avoid that fury. Gripping Dinah either side of her waist I slid myself free of her gorgeously slick tunnel and rolled her onto her back. I was surprised to find Dinah looking a little similar to Cathy. She had the red colouring across the top of her chest, her eyes were unfocused (though that could have been the cocaine) and she was clearly close to orgasm herself. The one major difference was the blazing red handprint on the side of her face, courtesy of my fair wife.

Not waiting for further instructions, I immediately slipped back between Dinah’s legs and scooped her thighs up in my hands. Her pussy was completely exposed to me and I drank in the site for a second before tilting my hips to align my shaft and plunging back to full depth; Dinah groaned and rolled her eyes back into her head. I picked up where I had left off, pistoning hard. Her tightness felt amazing and I could feel the orgasm gathering force within myself. I was confident, however, that I would be able to last a bit longer. Dinah, on the other hand, was nearly there now, as my pubic bone repeatedly bumped against her clit, causing un-ladylike grunts to escape the lips of our plaything. It was time to push her over the edge.

I dug my toes into the mattress for purchase and started throwing everything I could into my strokes. Cathy crawled over to Dinah with a look of significant malice in her eyes. I guessed (wrong again?!) that she was about to slap her. Instead, she wrapped her slim hands around Dinah’s neck and started to squeeze. I was at least 50% sure that this was a sex thing and not an attempted murder, despite the fact that Dinah started turning red almost immediately.

Sweat was dripping from my body as I fought with my muscles to continue the assault on her pussy while, at the other end, Cathy squeezed harder and harder. Poor Dinah’s eyes rolled back in her head and, with the veins standing out on her temple, she orgasmed involuntarily. It might have been the craziest thing I’ve ever seen. My wife continued her vitriolic abuse, calling her every single name she could think off while also encouraging her to “Cum all over her husband’s big dick.” Dinah was trying to groan with pleasure but only strangled noises came from her poor, abused throat. I could feel her wetness dripping from her and running down over my balls.