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 ï>¿Watching Annie by Fishman

   Watching Annie -- Installment 1

   How it was set up and the perfect apartment for it

   Thirty years ago when my wife, Annie, was young and pretty and sometimes
silly, before we had kids and debt and workdays that we hated, she was
easily coaxed to do things that I wanted her to do and which nowadays she
would never admit to have done, and which I think my kids would be shocked
to know what their mother had done. But you see we were all young once and
there was a time when curiosity and sexual arousal and drinking could make
a very strong intoxication, and if she was a little embarrassed that was
part of the thrill, and she'd endure the embarrassment for her love of me,
and for the sake of her own pleasure. So we were what I would call just
kids ourselves, newly married, 21 (me) and 20 (she) -"I remember I was
working a factory job for the summer; my last year in college coming up. 
Annie was waitressing at an Italian restaurant. We had a basement apartment
near the university.  Cheap.  One bedroom.  One of those mod units built of
brick in the Fifties.  There were a whole city block of these units, side
by side, we were in the middle of the five of them.  Barely enough room
between them to throw a cat, and waste paper and other garbage got blown in
between them.  That is what you saw if you looked out our living room
window.  Looking out and up at a brick wall, for on this side there were no
windows to other basement apartments, that way, people could not see in,
was my guess.  But, there were apartments on the first floor and second
floors above us, and I am sure people could look down and inside our
apartment that way.  Could look in right down in on our bed, in fact,
because we had the bed shoved up underneath our window there.  Or look down
on our sofa in the living room.  I am telling you all these details because
they will be important to the story. It was a small apartment: the kitchen
was just an alcove off the living room where you came in from the central
hallway, which led to the front entrance up a stairwell; the bedroom was
beyond kitchen; the bathroom with a tub was tucked in behind the kitchen
alcove.  Here is just a little drawing to give you the layout.



   To get back to my story -"and my wife would not appreciate my telling
this -"she'd rather just forget it, I guess -"not that she is a prude, but
all of us have regrets.  Anyway, in the first part of my marriage there
were several things that happened.  Some were my idea or my fault.  Some
just happened when things got out of control.  We survived them.  Some of
them were not pleasant.  Some were fun.  They were all sexual adventures
that give me a hard-on still when I think of them.  I wonder if Annie gets
juicy thinking about it.  I don't think so, I think some of it she would
like to forget, but I don't see how she can. So let's start from the start.
So the first instances were just careless exhibitionism.  I liked the idea
of my wife being seen naked by other men.  I don't know why.  I will never
understand why.  But somehow her being seen naked made her more sexually
exciting to me, and in my mind I thought she took excitement in it too and
that excited me even more. I am guessing it has to do with sexual fantasies
from when I was a kid.  I always wanted to see the neighbor girl naked and
I thought she wanted me to see her naked.  I window peeped.  I was just
thirteen or so.  She was sixteen.  Seeing her in bra and panties was real
thrill.  She knew I was there, I was certain, because she'd leave her
curtain parted just a little and deliberately undressed, looking at that
gap in curtains with coy glances.  How I wished she'd take off her bra and
panties too.  I shivered outside her window wishing it so hard, thinking I
could just will her to do it.  But of course my mind control never worked;
she did not do it.  Still I am certain she knew I was there, and that she
deliberately sat about in her underwear with the curtain parted so I could
see her. Anyway when we were first married I took some pleasure in seeing
that our curtains at our bedroom window were parted a little when she
undressed but did not quite have the courage to get her to put on a real
show.  One time, fooling around in the living room on the sofa -"because
when we were first married we'd fuck anywhere just for the excitement of it
-"not just in the bedroom, but in the bath, in the kitchen, anywhere I
could get her clothes off -"we were so obsessed with fucking so much
-"anyway, we were in the living room and had fucked and I kept her naked,
had her go naked around the apartment with all the lights on, curtains
open, while I watched TV (also still naked); and so we were talking about
what things turned us on, what sexual fantasies we had, and I admitted to
her that I'd like to see her take her clothes off in front of some other
guys and she looked at me surprised, but not really shocked; she shook her
head but she was smiling and I told her it would be alright.  And I asked
her: "Would you do that?" She shook her head, but she was thinking about
it. I asked her again.  She said: "Who?" That gave my hard-on a twinge. 
She laughed to see it jerk.  I said: "How 'bout now?"
Somehow, on a lark then, I got her to go to the door and I pulled on my
jeans and followed her barefoot as she went out into the hallway naked. 
Now it was maybe midnight, so who would be there?  She went nervously naked
down the hall, jumping at noises, and crouching, looking back at me,
calling me a "sicko," crept up the stairway to the well-lit front entry of
the apartment, where all the mailboxes are, and great glass door with glass
sidelights looking out and stood at that glass door, naked for all the
world to see.  A car went by and she ran back to the apartment giggling.  I
wished she'd gone outside and told her so.  We fucked like animals.  We
were both breathless.  I was certain she had found the whole thing as

sexually intriguing as I did. So anyway this led to other dares and
experiments.  Leaving the lights on and curtains open when I stripped her
before making love.  Stripping her on walks in the woods and hoping
somebody would come along.  Then one time, I stripped her in the car while
we were driving out of state to visit her parents.  Her sitting naked in
the passenger side of our VW while semi-trucks cruised by and down shifted
to run side-by-side to see my naked wife.  One trucker motioned to her to
masturbate but she would not, and we got off at the next exit to escape
him. She did not do that again. But in our motel room that night she did
strip as she stood up on a chair in front of the window with the curtain
drawn open and all the lights on.  I went outside to see how someone
looking in might see her and it was incredible.  I stood outside myself and
masturbated looking at her standing and stripping in the lamplight. 
Unfortunately we were too far back from the highway, so I don't think she
had any other audience than me. But these were the things that got us
playing with fire.  And as for me they just got me more and more crazy in
my thinking.  That time with the truck driver really gave me a pang.  I
told her that I wished she had masturbated for him.  She looked at me
strangely and she did not say no.  So I wondered. The first serious
instance of showing off my wife came then when we were drinking one night
with one of my friends who had come over for the purpose of drinking.  And
she got very drunk and him too.  Now they had always been friends, and in
fact she had dated him before she had dated me.  So it was perhaps only
natural that it happened.  Anyway I was out of the room to take a pee and
when I came back I saw them from the darkness of the kitchen where they
didn't see me standing.  They were on the sofa side by side where'd we'd
been sitting, she in the middle between us, sitting under a floor lamp. 
The TV on at the corner of the room.  The coffee table in front of them.  I
can still remember it vividly.  Anyway I was just as drunk as they were. 
Standing there in the dark, I saw them kissing.  Instead of getting upset I
was fascinated.  They were really mashing their mouths together and they
both acted like they were horny enough to fuck.  My friend had pushed her
sweatshirt up and she wasn't wearing a bra.  He tits were showing ,and he
was feeling a nipple.  It looked like they had done this before and liked
doing it.  With tits exposed, his hand left her tits and reached into the
front of her shorts.  She put her hand to his and stopped him then and
pulled her sweatshirt down.  I ducked back into the bathroom and then made
point of turning on the light in the kitchen when I came out and of course
I found them watching TV and looking like nothing had happened. Nothing
more did happen, but it got me obsessing.  I guessed or at least I
fantasized they were fooling around when I wasn't around.  In the end, in
the middle of one of our own mad fucks, I put it to her to tell me.  She
loved me.  I did not doubt it.  I was not jealous.  I actually wanted her
to tell me about it.  I more than half hoped it was true.  And it turned
out I was right.  They had been another time, a time previous to the time I
had seen when I was gone to work.  During the middle of the day actually.
He had come over to see her and she was still in her nightie watching TV,
the nightie through which the color of her nipples showed, and he had
started necking with her on the sofa, putting his hand up under her nightie
and feeling her bare skin and feeling her between her legs (which she said
she did not want him to do) and wanted more and was coaxing her to let him
"do it" for old-time's sake.  And she admitted then that yes she had fucked
him before we were married, and so, yes, she had let him strip off her
nightie and sat beside him naked on the sofa while he felt her up, but she
claimed she refused to fuck him. I asked her candidly: "Did you give him a
blow job?" She looked at me ironically, blushing, and uncomfortable: "No...
Why do you ask that?" I shrugged.  I asked again: "Did you?" She sighed and
said he wanted her too.  He had asked her to.  She had done a little but
had stopped.  I asked if she ever had done it to him.  She asked me why I
wanted to know, and I told her I just did: "And anyway I love you." And for
reasons I did not understand it made me unbelievably excited.  I did not
tell her that, but she knew it.  "It's okay if you do," I told her.  And I
saw that either she had already done it, or she wanted to do it.  She said
she never had. I didn't really believe her.  We fucked.  Later on--after
it--we were just cuddling.  I kissed and told her again it was okay if she
had sex with another man.  She admitted then: "Yes...  Once." "When?" I
wanted to know, "Before we were married?" "No," she admitted.  "After?" I
looked at her.  She was unhappy about this, but I reassured her.  I really
was not angry at her or jealous.  "When?  What happened?" She said another
time--not what I saw.  She did not want to tell me.  She said: "It won't
happen again." All of this of course obsessed me even more.  I wondered how
many more of my friends had visited during the day while she lounged in her
nightie, seeing her nipples showing, putting their hands up under it and
copping a feel. I had no reason to think this.  I never put it to her.  But
I realized that I actually liked the thought of it.



   Installment 2 -- Annie sucks off her old boyfriend while I watch from
outside.

   So this led to the first serious time that I coerced her to put on a
"show" for me.  The first of several until she refused to do anymore. This
first time was an obvious ploy for me to play on Annie, because she was
still sexually intrigued by my friend, whom I will call Gary. Gary had been
my friend even before he was hers.  I had known him since I was a teenaged
boy, and in fact he had joined me in peeping into our neighbor girl's
window more than once.  He always claimed he saw more than I did, swore he
saw her take her bra off, but I did not believe him.  He lied about things
like that a lot. Gary had dated Annie before I did, as I said, and of
course he had tales to tell, about what she let him "do" and what she let
him "see." But that was a long time ago.  Gary was not guy to get a lot of
girls, in truth.  But I knew he still had a "hard-on" for Annie.  For that
matter, a lot of my friends did, trying to cop a feel when we were drinking
together.  And she, being the only girl in the crowd and a "good sport" and
being the only married woman they knew, made her a great attraction.  If
other girls they knew might refuse them because they were virgins, they did
not have to worry about that with her, and -"hey -"if she got pregnant, who
is to know who the daddy is?  Somehow too the idea that she was regularly
fucking meant she was available to fuck, even if she was married.  What's
another fuck to a married woman who gets fucked all time?  That was the
mindset, I think. So Gary was at her often, she admitted.  And so were the
others.  It was something of a thing to talk about among them.  There were
some exaggerated stories.  But Gary had had some success to brag about and
particularly the idea that she willingly gave him a blow-job and, he
claimed, swallowed it, that was the like Holy Grail of sex -"to find a
pretty girl to do that, who enjoyed doing that, who swallowed it -"that was
the what each wanted more than anything.  Forget falling in love.  If my
wife would suck them off, she would be their favorite girl. So in the
twisted view of all my male friends, my wife was like hunting a doe, and
stalking her sexually was the main recreation for them that summer.  My
working days (while most of them still lived at home, sponging off their
parents) meant she was just easy prey for them; besides she had shown she
was ready to be pursued.  How often had they found her in her flimsy
nightie, with or without me around?  How often had she let them put their
hands up her sweatshirt when I was out of the room? When I finally did it
with her the first time, it was on an impulse.  Gary had come over on a
Thursday night and we had been drinking, although I had to work the next
day and really should not have been, but he could get me started, so there
you go.  Annie came home about ten from her waitress job and changed
clothes -"not putting on her nightie, like I had hoped she would -"but put
on one of my t-shirts and some shorts and joined us on the sofa and tried
to catch up with our drinking.  We had no air-conditioning.  It was a warm
humid night.  We had all the windows open to get what breeze we could.  But
just sitting there we were all perspiring.  The TV had on reruns of Happy
Days. Annie was up to our level drunkenness in a hurry.  She was always a
cheap date.  A few drinks would do her.  I suppose the notion I had of her
doing a "show" had been on my mind since Gary had come.  I was disappointed
she had not come out in her nightie, but the way Gary was looking at her,
and her sitting next to him so comfortably, feet tucked up under her on the
sofa, laughing and teasing him when he flirted with her, I think it was
just too much. I went to the bathroom and came back, hoping to find
something going on, but nothing doing.  I motioned for her to come over and
talk to me.  That is when I told her what I wanted; she looked at me
seriously; she did not object; all she said was: "Are you sure?" I said:
"Yes...  If you're sure?" She looked at me seriously and repeated: "You're
sure?" I kissed her and told her it was what I wanted.  She turned from me
slowly and went back to the sofa. I pretended that I was going to bed. 
That is what she would tell Gary.  I didn't turn the light on in our
bedroom.  I stood on the bed and removed the screen from our window and
hoisted myself out onto the lawn between the apartment buildings and
crawled along, taking care to stay out of direct light showing up against
the brick wall of the next building, creeping close enough to peer into the
windows over our sofa where Annie had come to sit again, as she was before,
holding now another drink.  She and Gary watched TV. Nothing happened.  I
almost thought I was going to have to crawl back through the window and get
her to come in the bedroom and explain it to her, to get her to start
something.  But I did not need to.  I think she was just thinking it over
and waiting for Gary to make the first move.  Gary was probably waiting to
make sure I was asleep.  I could hear the TV.  They did not talk.  I didn't
know for sure what she told him.  Had she told him I was going to sleep? 
Then during a commercial it started: he turned and put his hand on her
thigh and leaned toward her and kissed her.  She kissed him back He put his
hand on her front.  She did not remove it.  She was stilling kissing him
without resistance.  She was still holding her drink.  It was awkward but
he fumbled to put his hand under the T-shirt, feeling her bare waist and
raising his hand slowly..  Still kissing.  She said something I did not
hear.  She was smiling at him.  She shook her head.  What did that mean?
But he took her drink from her and put it on the coffee table while she
looked at him, smiling.  Then as he was not looking at her, she glanced up
at the window.  I don't think she saw me, but she must have known I was
there.  Gary had turned back to her and sat closer to her on the sofa and
leaned in to kiss her; she leaned back against the arm of it, putting her
hands up as he leaned against her body to kiss her warmly; she, closing her
eyes, kissed him back.  He put his hand under her T-shirt and raised it
easily to feel her breasts; still she did not resist, or refuse, and still
she kissed him warmly. I suppose Gary was guessing he had better press his
advantage, but I expect he was also thinking that she would put a stop to
it, like she always had, although there must have been at least the one
time where she gave in and he had got what he was after.  Because of that,
he wanted to try again.  He said things to her I did not hear.  She looked
warm, flushed; she nodded.  I saw but did not hear her say: "Yes." And as
she looked into his eyes, he took the bottom of the T-shirt and lifted it
up, pausing to look at her bare tits, with her head trussed up inside it,
and to suck up a nipple, and lick around the other one, and then pulled the
shirt off her head and tossed it to the floor.  She, leaning back again,
smiled at him as he looked at her tits and said something, looking at her
face now and feeling her breasts, lightly teasing her nipples.  The main TV
program had come back on. They talked like this.  He, playing with her
breasts; she smiles at him, replying.  My wife, by the way, had small
breasts in those days, before she had kids, and they got milk-filled and
her nipples widened and darkened.  In those days they were a soft bouncy
balls, with puffy nipples the size of walnuts, a pale plum color, and his
attentions to them drew them to wet puckered points.  He took off his
shirt. The both of them were glowing with perspiration.  He wanted to fuck
her.  I think he told her so.  She smiled at him but shook her head.  He
was not going to give up.  He took hold the waist band of her shorts -"and
underpants too -"and drew them off her hips, out from under her as she sat,
not fighting him, and with one hand immediately plunged between her legs,
his other stripped her shorts and underpants away and to the floor.  She
parted her legs to let him finger her; she was obviously sexually aroused.
She was caressing his neck as he kissed her, feeling her cunt, two or three
fingers deep in her, and began to earnestly finger-fuck her.  She looked
ready to fuck. He must have thought so.  He stood and pushed his pants and
undershorts down to show her his erection.  This was actually the first
time I had seen another man's erection in the flesh.  Not Annie's first
time.  She had seen this one before.  He was smaller than me, but it stuck
out straight up, circumcised, its randy knob darker than the shaft.  She
stared at it, smiling, while he stared between her wide-open legs, as she
lays back on the sofa and left herself exposed to him on purpose.  He moved
to mount her, leaning over her, and laying on top of her. His back was to
me and I could not see her face.  She did not put up her hands to stop him.
She did not resist.  He was between her legs, her legs parted wider for
him, to receive him.  He pressed himself against her.  He must have put his
cock up inside her.  I could not see it go in, and wished I could, that is
how intently I was watching and wishing her to do this.  I started
masturbating myself. Her right hand went lightly to his back, she gently
held him.  He began fucking her.  His buttock clenching as he hunched and
pushed for penetration.  He stroked it several times.  But her left hand
now pushed against him.  She pushed him to back off and sit down.  His
penis slipped out, waggled where he sat, I could see it as he sat back, wet
with her.  She sat up and if she said something to him, I did not see it or
hear it.  Perhaps she just guided him gently, but she leaned forward, over
his lap, taking his penis in her hand, feeling it lightly with her
fingertips as she gazed into his eyes and then leaning so that her breasts
grazed his thighs, she put her mouth on his erection, taking it in by half,
closing her eyes as she did, and began to bob her head smoothly on it and
using her tongue on it (or so I guessed by his pleased response).  His hand
went to the top her head, his eyes closed.  She began to suck him off,
lightly bobby her head on his prick as he sat back, as he relaxed and
enjoyed it.  He spoke to her.  She did not take her mouth off of him.  She
almost smiled. Her eyes closed, flushed, she caressed his penis as she
sucked on it; she pumped it with her hand now as she bobbed her head on it.
His eyes closed tightly.  He stiffened.  He held her head tightly with both
his hands, though he did not need to, and he came freely in her mouth.  She
stiffened also.  She, very flushed, holding his penis in a fist, swallowed
it.  I could see how she swallowed it.  She continued holding his penis
tightly, not moving her head on his penis, but obviously moving her tongue,
obviously sucking eagerly, while he let out the breath he had been holding
since he began to ejaculate into her mouth, and sighing and smiling
broadly, he said something endearing to her as he stroked her hair and
watched her face, her mouth smiling on his spent penis, finished.  She
lifted her head from it, looking at it, squeezing it, kissed the head of
it, and then glanced up at me knowingly, at the window where I was hiding,
as if to say: "Are you happy now?" She looked at Gary sheepishly and
laughed at something he said, putting her fingers to her mouth to wipe what
she thought might be on her lips.  She cleared her mouth of the taste of
him and reached for her drink and sipped it, while he reached under her
leaning torso and felt her dangling breast.  She picked up her T-shirt from
the floor, stood and pulled it over her head and smoothed it to her body.
It did not quite cover her front completely.  She went to the kitchen as
she was; he looks at her bare ass as she walked away and made herself
another drink; he, studying her pussy as she returned with a fresh drink,
said something and she laughed and shook her head of hair and smoothed it
from her face and said something sweetly to him.  The both of them looking
down at his still erect penis and he said whatever it was again, and she
laughed and shook her head and sipped her drink.  He sighed and stood and
pulled up his undershorts over his erection, then pulled up, zipped up his
pants.  He sat.  She tucked her feet under her legs, her thighs bare, a bit
of her tummy showing under the T-shirt, but how she sat her sex was
modestly hid from him, but for the showing a portion of pubic hair.  They
talked quietly.  The TV was still on.  Another rerun of Happy Days was
starting. I crept back into the bedroom.  Got into bed and masturbated a
second time.  She did not come to bed until well after 3 am and I wondered
then if she had let him fuck her after all or sucked him off a second time.
I had hardly slept and when she got into bed I awoke and I immediately and
passionately fucked her; it felt like I had been the second one inside her
that night, which made me only more passionate.  And for her part, she
could not get enough.  I called in "sick" for work in the morning, went
back to bed and fucked her to wake her up and fucked her again before we
got up for breakfast.  We fucked all day.



   Installment 3 -- Annie Strips in front of my Friends while I spy from
the window.

   That was the beginning -"or actually the middle of -"the wild summer I
am talking about. We had only been married a year.  It was really our first
summer together and our first apartment.  Because my high school buddies
from my old neighborhood still lived at home during the summer, and because
ours was the only apartment they could go to and drink, and because I was
the only one married out of our crowd, they came over often. Even during
the weekdays we drank.  It was new.  And it was hot.  And they came to see
my wife too.  And she wore her nightie because it was hot, even though it
was a bit revealing. This nightie -"actually a negligee -"had been given to
her by her girlfriends for her honeymoon trousseaux.  It was supposed to be
sexy; three layers of sheer rayon, blue, came to mid-thigh, was sleeveless,
ruffled at the scooped neckline, hanging there by a tie so loosely on her
shoulders, so precariously that a good tug and it would fall to her feet in
a heap.  Without much effort you could make out the dark circles of her
nipples underneath, and her dark hairy pussy, not so revealing as to show
detail, but the shadow was obvious.  It was enough to make my buddies eager
to see more.  And I think she knew it -"how could she not? -"and she could
see it for herself in the bathroom mirror.  She said she wore it because it
was hot and she liked it, and she didn't mind if the "boys" noticed things;
after all she wasn't naked. She called them "boys" for good reason -"well,
partly it was because she was a "married woman" and so felt more grown-up
than them.  But also they acted like "boys," not a care in the world.  And
besides one of them was still in high school -"Steve, Gary's little
brother. There were four of them -"Gary who'd had his cock sucked by my
wife -"at least twice that I knew of -"and then Steve (his brother) and
then Jim and finally Pete.  This was the main crew, my four buddies from
high school.  I had known them longer than I had known her.  They could ask
anything of me, and I would do it.  There were also some others that came
and went -"in particular Jon, who I did not like, who was Gary's friend. 
Jon was everything Gary was not, thought himself a real lady's man, and
bragged about it. Well, now Gary had something to brag about too.  The fact
of copping a feel was a common sport among all of them, as I said, so that
did not distinguish him, but seeing her naked, that was something to talk
about, and now he could say, without doubt, that he could get her to suck
his cock -"and swallow his cum -"if he wanted.  Or so he told them, I have
heard. This was more or less what I wanted him to think and what I wanted
them to hear.  After spying on my wife and Gary, my fantasies now turned to
the whole gang of them seeing her naked.  That is what I wanted now.  But
how can I get her to do it? Well, it was not as hard as I thought it would
be. They often came to visit when I was at work and catching Annie in her
nightie was part of the purpose.  Sitting around with her on the sofa
watching TV, they might get a glimpse up her thigh when she got up or sat
down.  Or the real deal was, get her drunk. Almost all of them had a story
of sitting next to her and kissing her when they were drunk.  Gary had the
best stories, but they all tried more than once to slip a hand up her leg
under her nightie. For the most part Annie thought this all just fun.  She
teased them, she knew, but she was not serious and did not think they were
serious either.  Except for Gary, of course.  And that was only because in
the first instance she had gotten sexually excited and had given in, and in
the second instance because I asked her to do it.  But she did not think
she would ever do it again and thought she could refuse him or discourage
him. But within a few days of my "show" she was visited one morning -"she
in her nightie as usual -"by Gary and his friend Jon.  They hung around and
wanted something, she could tell.  They drank coffee and watched TV, and
Gary and Jon kept giving her bare legs the leer, and she felt uncomfortable
sitting between the two of them, especially uncomfortable with Jon staring
at her chest, and so on.  Finally Gary put a move on her while Jon sat,
leaned in on her, and actually tried to add his own caresses, while Gary
kissed her and felt a tit through her nightie.  She responded a bit but
then pushed him off with a light laugh and got up for a pee.  Gary followed
her to the bathroom and while she was sitting on the toilet, he opened the
door.  The two of them at the bathroom door looking down between her legs
for a peak, which she quickly covered with her hand.  Of course she was
annoyed and demanded: "What are you doing?" Gary smirking, Jon seeming more
sinister: they explained they wanted her to give them blowjobs; that is why
they came.  She shook her head and simply said: "I don't think so . . . . "
Jon then laid the blackmail on her: if she didn't do it, they would tell
her husband that she had.  She laughed at this.  That surprised them both.
"Go ahead," she laughed, and slammed the bathroom door shut in their faces.
When she came out, they were gone.  She put on her clothes, did laundry,

read a book, took a nap.  That was her day. She told me the story when I
got home after work.  I felt a pang of arousal when I heard the story.  I
said to Annie: "You can, if you want to. . . ." She gave me an odd look.  I
followed her into the bedroom, and we talked some more.  But I did not
press the point.  I was frankly a little squeamish about her taking off her
clothes in front of all of them.  It would change how they looked at me, as
well as how they looked at her.  It might ruin our friendship, and if they
knew that I wanted her to do it, I would feel ashamed of myself and they
would think of me as pathetic.  But at the same time I really wanted her to
do it and I wanted to see it. Surprisingly, without any shame at all, Gary
showed up that very night after dinner for the usual drinks and TV,
bringing along his brother Steve, and soon enough we were visited, per
usual, by my buddies Jim and Bill.  Nothing was said by Gary about what had
happened, nothing hinted at.  But I guessed that at least his brother Steve
knew about it, and all of them seemed edgy, waiting for something to
happen. Annie sensed this too.  It gave us all -"Annie, me and the boys too
-"giddy feelings of tension and anticipation that were frankly sexual for
all of us.  I think we all knew that something could happen. I took her
aside at one point and spoke to her in the kitchen privately.  I never
really told her to do it.  But she knew what I wanted, and I saw she would
do it if I wanted her to do it.  So finally I said vaguely: "You can let
them just look. . .  you know. . .  you don't have to do anything. . . ."
She said: "What do you want?" I said: "What do you want?" She knew what I
wanted.  I did not know what she wanted.  I wanted her to want it, but I
did not know if she did.  Annie looked at intently and waited for me to say
it.  I did not.  But nonetheless she gave in.  She went into the bedroom
and I knew she would take off her clothes and put on her nightie.  That
could only mean she would do it. Annie came out in her nightie and the
"boys" were all attentive and quiet.  She sat down on the sofa with the
bunch of them, having gotten another drink.  She tucked her feet up under
legs, like she does, and leaned against Gary comfortably.  Gary put his arm
around her bare shoulder. They tried not to look at what they wanted to
look at, except for Gary who seemed not to feel embarrassed about how he
ogled her. The usual pretense followed.  I stood in the kitchen and told
them that I had to get up for work early.  Actually I did.  I put my drink
down unfinished on the kitchen table and stumbled drunkenly off to the
bedroom.  Once I was in the bedroom I stood on the bed and removed the
screen and once again snuck through the grass, to creep closer to and peer
into the windows over the sofa.  She still sat amongst them.  They watched
TV.  Once more, there was a long time of waiting and anticipation and the
mosquitoes were bad and I was feeling like giving up on it, that Annie
would just chicken out. Annie had got up twice to get more liquid courage.
The "boys" leering at her legs as she walked away.  They seemed like
predators, watching her get drunk and not drinking more themselves.  It was
like they understood what was going to happen, but I know that none of them
did.  I know that for certain -"by the expression I saw on Jim's and Pete's
face when she really did it: a total surprise. Annie was drunk enough that
when she stood up again she felt dizzy and giggled, and Gary reached up and
held her hips to steady her.  It was also a way to cop a feel.  I saw him
look over at the others as he slightly lifted her nightie behind her to
give them a peek. Steve looking up the back of her nightie, I think, saw
her bare butt for the first time. She braced herself and laughed and pushed
Gary's hands off her hips; she knew what he was doing.  She stumbled a
little as she turned and said something I did not hear.  Then she staggered
to the TV and braced herself against it and pushed a button so that it went
off.  I could hear her now when she turned back, looking at them
sheepishly, brushing hair from her face and smiling said: "Okay. . .  Okay.
. .  I know. . . ." She wavered where she stood.  "If I do it . . . .  what
you want, " She smiled.  "If I do it, then you got to promise. . . ." She
paused.  They looked confused and hopeful.  Gary grinned.  "If I do what
you want, then you must promise not to tell. . . ." She was very drunk, it
was true: I wondered if she would remember any of this in the morning.
"Okay?" she slurred, "You won't tell him. . . .  Okay?" No one said
anything.  She answered herself: "Okay. . . ." She stepped uncertainly to
the center of the room and turned to face them.  She smiled.  I moved to
the other end of the window quickly, so that I could see her face and see
the front of her as she did it.  No one noticed my movements.  They were
staring intently up at her. Looking down at the front of her negligee,
smiling dreamily, Annie teased to untie the string at on the top of the
negligee, to pull it slowly out, her eyes dancing, almost giggling but
silently happy; the gown slackened as it loosened about her shoulders; it
sloughed to one side, baring her shoulder, slipping to the swell of her
breast.  Now looking directly at Steve, she drew it off one shoulder and
then the other and it caught momentarily, hesitating to fall, on the
stiffened tips of her breasts, then plunged completely and liquidly to the
floor, to pool about her feet; and now my young pretty wife stood there,
entirely naked, for my friends, exactly as I had always hoped to witness
and I masturbated eagerly to see it. No one spoke. She relished their
sexual arousal, their lewd stares.  Annie paused, her hands lightly on the
front of her thighs, her mouth open in her own sexual arousal for them, and
smiling, unashamed, naked for their pleasure and her own. Then, looking
down at her feet, still smiling dreamily, she carefully stepped out the
spilled negligee and stepped around the coffee table and sat on it, her
legs parted, her hands on her thighs. Leaning back on her left arm, she
placed first one foot between Gary's legs on the edge of the sofa, and then
placed the other between Steve's legs, so that she splayed her cunt to
their view. With her right hand she touched herself dreamily, her whole
breast caressing, then traced the line of her body, her belly to the top of
her cunt and inserted fingers into her wetness and asked them coyly: "Is
this what you wanted?" Pete at least nodded appreciatively; no one else
spoke but they grinned and fidgeted and leaned to peer closely at her
efforts.  They and I watched her masturbate; her expression serious,
sobering, and her face flushing; though she was drunk she swiftly climaxed,
closing her eyes, tossing her head, with a gasp and girlish sigh, and
having finished felt of her vulva with an open palm, finding it very wet,
wiped the wetness across her bare belly, and laughed lightly at how they
still looked at her in awe and in their own raw unfinished sexual arousal.
She stood up, smiling coyly, and said softly: "Goodnight, boys" and walked
naked to our bedroom, went in and quietly shut the door.  I watched my
friends for a minute or two as they spoke eagerly about what they had seen
in low voices and then convinced that she would not be coming back left the
apartment in two groups.  They left all the lights on. I found Annie in bed
passed out and unresponsive to my fucking, but I fucked her any way. In the
morning she remembered it all very well.  I was pleased and told her how I
loved her and how exciting it was to watch and how much the "boys" had
enjoyed it. She asked: "It is what you wanted?" "It was wonderful," I told
her, and in fact it was more than I had expected.  I had not thought to ask
her to masturbate.  She had done that for her own pleasure as well as mine.
It still gives me a hard-on to think of it.  My wife in those days, in
those few wild weeks that summer, had abandoned herself to her sexual being
and I have never loved her more than this, nor ever found her more sexually
alluring than when she was naked for other men and liberally gave her whole
body -"her open mouth, her ready cunt -"all of her body -"to as many men
who wanted her.



   Fourth Installment -- She Enjoys Sucking Cock

   The consequence of her "show" of course was the expectation that she
would do it again.  I knew that.  I wanted it. And of course it encouraged
Gary to expect her to fuck him or suck him off again.  The other "boys" now
talked about "doing it" to her as well.  Gary's friend, Jon, who looked at
Annie as a trophy to win, also was reinforced in his expectations and set
about his own schemes to get what he wanted, one way or another. Some of
this I did not anticipate. Late in the flow of these events, after she and
I both became disillusioned with our "adventures," Jon came to the
apartment with two strangers one afternoon, while I was at work.  Annie
warily let him in, and he simply bullied her to cooperate.  She did not
tell me of this incident until much later.  She was truly ashamed of it. 
She had willingly taken off her shorts and shirt for them and let them take
encouragement from her responses; they had cajoled her that much. But it
ended in disgust and dismay for her.  They took turns roughly fucking her
with her underpants dangling at an ankle where Jon had finally jerked them
down to her feet, her bra dangling about her waist where he'd jerked it
down to free her tits for groping.  They took their turns fucking her from
behind, while they mocked her for her submission but held her against her
will on her hands and knees on the carpet in the living room; and while one
fucked her over the back of her, one held her and molested her tits, and
the third one crouched over her face, holding her head tightly, and fucked
her in the mouth.  They repeated this brutal tag-team on her for hours and
hours until she was exhausted, and they had spent every fluid ounce of cum
they could, feeding it to her swollen mouth or shooting it up her sorry
cunt. This degradation was the last of these "adventures" for Annie. But,
as I say, for the most part this summer was not sinister like this until
the very end.  Then, as I say, we had both become disillusioned and Annie
eventually would never speak of it, not even recall the good times. Still,
I remember it all mostly fondly. In the days immediately after she first
undressed for my friends, our sexual adventures were innocent and fun.  The
sexual play was play.  Our sexual satisfactions were thrilling and mutual
and -"well -"playful.  Truly.  We all enjoyed it.  She enjoyed it most of
all. I admit I had some angst of jealousy at times, because she unabashedly
enjoyed sex with the "boys" so much.  Often having sexual parties with them
that I did not witness and some of which I shall probably never know, and
there were probably other men whom I did not know about, whom she had sex
with, because the stories my friends tell of her also involve some of their
friends whom I did not know.  Altogether I suppose Annie made love to more
than two dozen men in the span of those sultry six or eight weeks. The
first was not Gary, though he kept trying, and would eventually succeed. 
He came with his brother, Steve, the day after she had done her "show" for
them. She met them at the door, dressed for the day in one of my T-shirts
and shorts.  They were disappointed not to catch her in her nightie.  She
let them in, though she guessed what they wanted. She was not surprised
when Gary tried to pull her T-shirt up.  She smiled at him, dancing away:
"You promised...." Steve caught her, held her.  Gary lifted the front of
her T-shirt.  She was not wearing a bra.  She smiled at him warmly as he
fondled her, Steve looking on.  Steve let go his grip and she drew her
T-shirt down and told him: "You will have to leave, if you can't stop
it..." She laughed when he almost begged her for a fuck.  Steve looked
embarrassed for his brother.  But his brother was good-natured about it, it
was the tease he enjoyed as much as winning her over to strip and give in.
He repeated his idle threat to tell me what she had done.  She playfully
pouted and said again: "You promised..." Steve was confused.  He had no
desire to tell me.  He hoped he could get from her what it seemed to her
she was willing to give to others.  Why not him? So two days later, Steve
was back by himself.  This time, he did catch Annie in her nightie. It was
so obvious to her why he came, as she told me later, still flushed with the
pleasure of it, that she felt flattered by his wide-eyed fascination with
her.  So on her own initiative, without anything but the most awkward
overtures from the shy boy, she stood up from the sofa where they had been
watching TV, and baited him with her looks, and then slowly took off her
nightie in front of him, dropped it and stood naked for him while he
stared, open-mouthed and obviously aroused.  He tentatively touched a naked
thigh, felt it up to her pussy hair, feeling her there, and then reached up
to feel a jutting nipple.  He stood.  They kissed. She opened his jeans,
put her hand inside his undershorts to feel his erection.  He ejaculated
soon at the touch of her fingers.  He felt ashamed.  She laughed.  He did
not soften.  He could ejaculate several times in a row, she guessed, and so
she undressed him and took his hand and led him to our bed where they laid
down and fucked in various ways for a continuous couple of hours, she takes
his ejaculations inside of her twice and one that spilled when he was
between positions. After she got up to go to the bathroom, he still lay in
the bed, still erect, so when she returned, she straddled him where he lay
and fucked him, as he grabbed her tits and felt her all over, until she was
certain he was ready to cum again, and tilted off his legs, his dick
springing out of her, slapped down and jerked on his flat of his belly. 
She knelt at his hips, laid her head on his belly just above his jerking
dick, and took the head of his dick fully in her mouth and sucked him.  She
did not touch him.  He hardly moved.  She moved her tongue on it, and he
spent himself into her mouth.  She said it was wonderful to have so much
control over the boy.  She could make him cum as much as she wanted, she
laughed. My only regret is that I did not see it, I told her.  She kissed
me with that same mouth that had swallowed his cum, and we undressed each
other as we made our way to the bedroom, she telling me how much she had
enjoyed fucking the boy, and I imagining it as we laid down naked on the
same unmade bed on which she and he had been naked, fucking her earlier
that day, and so we made love also.  She was eager to fuck me, even though
she had already been fucked -"what? -"four, five times by Steve that day.
God, I loved her then. I asked her then as we were making love.  "Would you
fuck them while I watched?" She did not ask if I meant it or if I was sure.
With my dick inside her and both of us approaching orgasms, she said
simply, softly: "Yes..." Afterwards as we lay in the stew of our cum and
sweat on the bed in the dark, I explained myself, that I meant for her to
fuck all four of them.  She, with her head on my chest, stilling feeling my
limp wet penis with her fingers, and making it rise again, did not respond.
I made it as clear to her as I could: "I mean, fuck all of them together...
at the same time.  You know what I mean?" And, as she edged her head toward
my erection, before she took it in her mouth, she said softly: "I know..."
She took what she could from me, urging it with her tongue and her fingers
lightly feeling me.  I think it was just a quick spurt, but she sighed and
swallowed sweetly.  God, I loved her so much then.



   Fifth Installment -- I Finally See Her Fucked by My Friends

   I expected they would take the opportunity to fuck her if she was
presented as a likely possibility to be fucked.  But my first efforts to
entice them, or rather hers, were met with awkwardness.  They did not seem
understand what she hinted.  Even necking with Gary on the sofa, while she
sat between them, all of them watching her, even his lifting her nightie as
he kissed her, exposing her belly, her pussy to them, even lifting them to
her tits, did not get them to join in.  No one else touched her even as she
was half-naked. She finally told me she thought she'd just have to come
out, strip in front of them, and tell them they had to fuck her, or they
never would try. But before that happened, something else broke the ice. 
It was the third try.  Once more in her nightie, once more all of us
drinking, once more I yawned and called it a night, then crept out the
window to watch them, hoping they would fuck my wife. The usual fooling
around started, this time she turned away from Gary who was feeling her
through her nightgown and started kissing Jim and put his hand onto her
naked thigh and he did not need much encouragement to slip a finger into
her, as I could see. But Gary got up to make another drink for himself and
others and found and announced they were out of whisky.  He said they
should go get some before the liquor store was closed.  But Annie was the
only one who is twenty-one, so she would have to go in and buy it, but she
wasn't dressed.  She smiled, pulled her nightie down, Jim sitting
uncomfortably with his unsatisfied erection, and said: "Let's go." This was
lark.  My nearly naked wife out on the road with them, going into a liquor
store near closing time in an almost see-through nightie.  They all would
go.  Before I could get back to the bedroom they were gone.  I ended up
sitting on the sofa waiting for them to return.  It seemed to me that they
took a very long time.  I was not worried exactly, but felt gnawed by some
jealousy, which was really strange, because I could crouch outside and look
down at her naked and kissing and fondled and watch her suck a guy's cock
and take a lot of sexual satisfaction in it, but I worried thinking she was
on her own doing it, without my knowledge (and consent) stripped naked,
fondled, and sucking cock. "What are they doing so long?" I wondered.  I
thought it an hour that had gone by.  Jesus, I was agitated.  There was no
booze left in the place, and I had turned off the TV so I could hear them
when they came in the front entry and down the hall, so I could run back to
the bedroom and take up my spying on her outside.  I was really going nuts.
I was wanting to go out and look for them, then I heard the front entry
door and running in the hallway, laughing, shouts that they hushed up for
fear of waking neighbors, and so I quickly rushed back to my bedroom and
clambered out the window, to crouch and creep back to the living room
window to spy again. Our apartment door flew open and Annie ran in first
-"completely naked -"and ran up to the ledge of the window and gripped it,
looking up at me with a naughty grin.  And did not turn around when the
boys all rushed in.  Gary the last, who shut it, told them hoarsely to keep
the noise down; and it had been Steven (who had no shirt on) and Jim who
were laughing and had chased Annie noisily into the apartment and now came
after her, to molest her naked body, but she shrieked and giggling ran from
their groping hands into the kitchen, where she escaped to put the kitchen
table between them, teasing them, leaning over the table, her tits
jiggling, out of breath, and making a mock struggle when the two "captured"
her, coming around from two sides, and forcing her back to the living room.
Gary meanwhile had got completely undressed, and stood shamelessly stroking
his cock, and Bill had himself got stripped to his undershorts and socks,
his prick obviously stiff inside of it.  She looked at both them and her
hand went to her mouth in a mocked shock, staring at the erection in front
of her.  Steve having let go of her was undressing too, while Jim still one
hand gripping her arm, had turned and put his other hand on her near
breast, feeling it, and saying to her: "You got to do it now...." Annie
looked at him, smiling, and shook her head in refusal, but it was obviously
playful, and even as she tried to back away from him, and break his hold of
her, she was laughing.  He caught her by the wrist, twisting it, and pulled
her forcibly against him, and the two of them embraced and kissed in
suffocating passion, as his hands roamed over naked buttock and sought to
finger her between her legs.  She kissed him back eagerly and straddled his
hand to let his fingers enter her. All of them but Bill were naked now but
he undressed as Steve and Gary took my wife by her shoulders -"against
Bill's objections and her obvious reluctance -"and turned her toward the
coffee table and forced down, while she half-heartedly resisted, she knelt
as Gary slipped in front of her, to sit on the coffee table and grope her
tits, and told her plainly: "We're gonna fuck you silly." She shook her
head, laughing, and said: "I dare you." And he grinned and guided her head
to put his prick into her objecting (but not resisting) mouth.  Steven,
crouching behind her, then deftly, quickly, and easily slipped his dick up
into her cunt from behind.  He fucked her while she sucked off Gary.  The
other two watched or leaned in to fondle her bobbling tits and her eyes
closed, face flushed, she bobbed her head on Gary's dick.  He held her
head. Variations of this followed and my wife never got off her knees. 
Steve was sucked off after Gary came in her mouth and Jim fucked her.  Then
Jim was sucked while Bill fucked her.  Then on her hands and knees beside
the coffee table she was face fucked by Bill while Gary finally got his
dick in her from behind.  He kept fucking her after Bill had been
swallowed, and she rather collapsed on the floor, face down, Gary going
down on her whole sweaty body, fucking her still.  She lay still on the
floor, naked, after Gary spent himself and she did not move while the
"boys" stood over her looking at her and made up fresh drinks.  Only Gary's
dick had gone soft.  The others still stood up like good soldiers and were
ready for orders. They may not have fucked her silly, like Gary promised
they would, but they fucked her repeatedly: they fucked her without rest;
they fucked her on her tummy; they fucked her on her back; they fucked
while she had her knees held; they fucked her rocking on her knees; they
fucked her on the sofa, on the coffee table, and on the floor; they fucked
her until she was so breathless that she begged them to stop; they fucked
her until she promised that, yes, they could do it to her again, and yes,
they could do it again and again, if they would just now, please, please,
stop and let her catch her breath.  She laughed at them still eyeing her as
she sat up and took a drink from Gary and asked Steve: "What did you do
with my nightie?" He said it was in the car and she asked: "Be sweet and go
get it for me?" He pulled his jeans on and went barefoot to the parking
lot. It was nearly 2 AM.  I myself had masturbated to completion three
times watching my wife get fucked.  I could not imagine how she felt.  My
two big pleasures, as I told her afterwards, was actually seeing these
guy's stiff dicks poking in and out of her cunt, the grunts and sloppy
slapping sex sounds, but then especially to see the look on her face as
they're doing it to her.  Her warm sexual feelings, her pleasure getting
fucked by friends still makes me hard when I think about it -"I can't
explain.  Her flushed face, the sounds she made, aching and wanting and
enjoying being fucked, really got to me -"I had to take my hand off my own
dick or would cum to soon.  But actually seeing dick going into her,
squirming and taking it with her whiny little squeals.  And, Jesus, to see
him actuallycumin her mouth and to see her face atthatmoment, to watch her
swallowing cum spurting into her mouth, filling it so she had to swallow it
quickly.  Damn!  I cannot tell you how I loved this. She obviously loved it
too.  She promised to do it all again with them.  Shewantedto do it again.
This was too much. When Steve came back with her nightie, she put it on and
they all groaned in complaint, and she laughed and said she was sore and
rubbed where it hurt.  They had no sympathy.  She laughed at them.  I left
them to talk it out and did not care if yet there was another suck off that
I missed.  I was wasted and crept off to bed.  She didn't come to bed until
almost dawn, obviously very drunk, and passed out. I didn't wake her when I
got up.  I saw she had been stripped of her nightie again sometime after I
had gone to bed; I found her nightie in the middle of the living room
floor. Sofa cushions had been pulled onto the floor and the coffee table
pushed away.  I put everything back, cleaned up a little, put the glasses
in the sink. I didn't talk to her until I got home from work and told me
the whole thing from her point of view. We talked about it over dinner and
a bottle of wine, and while it was sexually exciting to recall it, we were
both too pooped to fuck.  She gave me a suck for her "dessert," but we both
went to bed early to sleep.  It was the weekend and we could lounge in bed
all the next day if we wanted. Anyway, this is how Annie tells the story:
Gary drove to the liquor store with Bill in front with him.  She sat in
back between Steve and Jim.  Steve, having already fucked her, felt less
inhibition fondling her, putting his hand up under her nightie and necking
with her, while Jim seeing her more of less naked in the wash of
streetlights, washing over her as they drove along, with her nightie shoved
up and Steve fondling at it, put his hand on the other one.  And her mouth
full of Steve's tongue, she said nothing.  Jim felt encouraged to continue
and Bill turned around in the front seat to watch.  Gary tried to pay
attention to driving but shifted the rear-view mirror to get a glimpse and
saw her naked and went through a red light.  Luck was with them.  No cops.
Someone blasted a horn at them, and that caused Annie to break away and
pull her nightie down and hold it while Steve kept teasing her to take it
off and all of them began to chant: "Take it off.." She admitted to
blushing and being pleased at the same time.  But she refused.  She said:
"You want me to go in naked?" Of course they said yes.  When they got
there, Steve made an effort to strip her, but she escaped from the car. 
Bill, who looked the oldest, would go into the store with her. Annie had
brought her checkbook and she usually keeps her driver's license with it,
but she had taken it out for some reason, and had left it at home.  So when
she go to the counter, and she and Bill put down the booze, they rang up
the sale and when she handed over her check, they asked for her ID.  She
did not have it. Now it happened that it was weekday.  There were no other
customers in the place.  It was nearly 10 pm and time to close.  The two
old guys that were there -"the night manager and some buddy of his (as it
turned out) -"had been amused to see Annie barefoot in her skimpy nightie,
come in with a load of boys in the car; they had exchanged wise-cracks, I
am guessing.  So when Annie could not produce her ID, the manager just
shook his head and started to hand her check back to her but hesitated and
said with a leer:"Unless you got some other proof of age on you..." Annie
took the meaning.  She said: "Okay...  but only just a look," and making
sure there was no else in the place, she stepped back from the counter and
lifted the front of her nightie to flash them her pussy and tits.  She
dropped the hem, and smoothed it over her legs, then came back to reach for
the bag of booze, but he took hold of the bag of booze and would not let
go, shaking his head -"and I shall give him his name now, or at least what
he later told Annie it was; it was George -"George looked at his buddy
(whom Annie said she never did know the name of) and said: "What you think?
You think she looks old enough?" The other shook his head: "Nope." Hank
said: "We need to see it better than that...."

   "What?" she looked astonished, "You want me to take it off?" "Yeah,
that'll do it..." "Yup," said the other. George leaned over the counter on
his elbows and looked Annie over from head to toe and said: "Well?" So
Annie said she called him a fucker, but she did what he wanted, she took
off her nightie.  She held it in her hand, until he insisted that she drop
it.  Then she stood naked for them, turned herself for them as he asked her
to do, while they "examined" her and discussed if she "looked old enough."
She was posed by them in a few turns for a few minutes, before George
sighed and said he guessed she must be old enough, and the other nodded
agreement.  Bill picked up the booze and hurried out. George thanked her
for her business and flipped the check in the open cash register.  Annie
flushed, but happy, scooped up her nightie to run out of the store, as
George called after her: "Come back soon, Mrs.  _______." He'd got her name
off of the check, of course. Bill was out to the car with the booze and
telling the story before Annie got out the door. She came running out of
the liquor store naked, clutching her nightie to the front of her as best
she could, laughing, as George and the other geezer came to the door to
watch them drive off. Steve held the car door open for her and she dove
into the back seat onto Jim's lap, giggling, saying: "Get out of here..."
They tore out of there like they had robbed the store, all of them
laughing. Steve easily stripped her nightie away from her in the car, and
while Gary sped back to the apartment, she wrestled with Steve and Jim in
the back seat, alternately resisting their groping, then yielding hotly to
them with teasing passionate kisses, letting their hands work her up
sexually.  When they got to the apartment, she leapt out of the car naked
and ran to the front door, the others giving her chase.  Her naked running,
when I saw her come in the door, must have excited them as it did me. 
Frisking.  Naked.  She looked wild and happy.  The silly way girls run,
running laughing and happy, but completely naked besides, her tits
bouncing, her body shown by streetlight.  It was a drunken and delirious
fantasy.  A teenaged boy's wet dream if ever there was one.  And I will
never forget the look of naughty pleasure that she had running up to the
window ledge, peering up at me, smiling wickedly, giggling playfully at
being caught from behind by the boys hands and escaping them with a false
shriek at her molested surprise.  I never loved her more than at that
moment.  I have said that, I know.  But it is so true.



   Sixth Installment --Romping and Kindness to Old Men

   None of them, except Gary, came over for a few days.  It seemed odd. 
But then I think that Jim and Bill at least felt ashamed and worried.  Gary
and Steve now had shared the same girl and it was a constant topic of their
conversation.  But Steve felt uncertain about his feelings.  He was in love
with Annie.  He was uncomfortable seeing her taken by other men and he did
not like the way Gary talked about her. Gary of course tried putting moves
on Annie, but she pushed him off.  I saw him a couple times trying to talk
to her or touch her when I left the room and so on.  But Annie really did
not want to.  The truth was she only gave herself to him because I wanted
to watch.  However, she was very fond of Steve and very affected by his
endearing affection for her; his tenderness, his sexual fascination for her
made her yield to him with warmth and pleasure.  Steve could seduce her and
did seduce her several times over these weeks.  But Gary had no attraction
to her and that must have been frustrating for him. On the other hand, she
was truly intoxicated with group sex.  She felt no real attraction to any
of my friends individually -"except for Steve perhaps with whom there was
this brief mutual infatuation -"but if the group of them got into the mood
for some sexual fun, a little drunk, a little steamed up by suggestive
play, a little naughty with undress and so on, she loved to do it with them
all.  And too, as she explained it to me, the feeling of several of them
wanting to excite her, of the several hands feeling her at once, of the
several mouths on her body, of kissing them all with abandonment, that was
a magnitude and kind of sexual pleasure entirely different than making love
with any one man she loved or wanted.  This was not about wanting anyone;
this was about wanting all of them. She told me a sexual dream she had
around this time: she was naked in a meadow on a warm day and she lay in
the grasses and found that all around her were penises growing out of the
ground, laying among them like flowers, growing erect at her touch; and she
touched many and their erections yearned to be touched by her, and she
licked them and lay languidly beside them, feeling them, sucking on them,
one after another, fondling them, sucking on them, and delighting to make
them ejaculate so that she might watch or might receive it in her mouth;
and, she added, they all tasted wonderful.  Which was never the real case,
of course.  But this fantasy is how she felt about group sex.  She felt
herself swept away sexually by the group of men who shared her salaciously.
Every woman should have this pleasure at least once in her life. So we did
not see them all together again until the weekend and they were very
guarded and jumpy around me.  They looked at me like the cuckold I was, I
guess; they felt sorry for me and at the same time ached to fuck my wife
again. I told Annie when we spoke in the kitchen privately that I thought I
made them uncomfortable and she kissed me and said she didn't care what
they thought.  I asked her what she wanted me to do; did she want me to
leave?  She kissed me again and said she really wanted to do it again with
them, but not right away.  She wanted it to feel right.  I asked: "Can I
watch?" She kissed me and whispered: "You like that...  seeing me fucked by
them...." She looked at me sweetly and I nodded. Annie seemed game for
almost anything.  And sex by the group aroused her more than anything. Like
this time. They had more than few friends at the Jim's house and without
much effort or persuasion had got her clothes off. Chased her, teased her,
and eventually pulled down her bra and underpants to strike the pose in
this photograph. I count ten guys in this group -"eleven if you count Gary
who took the photo. I only know only three of them in the picture.

   Gary gave it to me years later as a souvenir.  It was one of many
incidents. My understanding is that they spent several hours using her. 
They fucked her repeatedly.  She sucked off everybody at least once.  She
came home exhausted, her mouth still milky with cum, her cunt seeping the
stuff. I told her then that she could do it again, but only if I could
watch.  At least that is what I thought was the understanding. But it did
not always happen that way.  The next time she did it with them I was gone
at work.  She told me about it but that was not the same.  I was hurt.  She
saw that I was hurt, and it confused her.  I could not really explain how I
felt.  But I said simply that I wanted her to do it again on a certain
night that I could watch, and I added I wanted it to be some men she did
not know. That was a big change. She looked at me anxiously.  She would not
refuse.  She felt she owed it to me somehow.  Unknown to me there had
several things going on that made her feel guilty. For one thing there had
not been just this one group-fuck with my friends since the first time
-"which I had witnessed -"but there had been four times she had been
group-fucked in just two weeks; and there had been not just my friends
fucking her, but at the latest one, about which she had not told me the
whole truth -"and this is the part she never did tell me -"there had been
three additional guys to the group, guys she did not know. Gary would
someday tell me how she had fucked altogether seven guys that one day,
taking them in turns, or I should say, they fucked her in turns, one or two
at a time, on our bed for the better part of a whole day; Gary made phone
calls from the apartment to bring them on, getting the five others from
friends of his brother Steve, high-school kids really. She never told me
any of this, because it made her sound like a slut.  And for that matter
shefeltlike a slut -"and she enjoyed it, at least that day.  She enjoyed
how they took her for a fuck-toy and posed her every which way to fuck,
letting her out of bed only to pee or to get a drink of water, and using a
washcloth between fucks to clean her up for the next guy.  Gary's fuck fest
made it a challenge -"how many times could they make her cum?  Gary later
said he counted maybe a dozen fucks, and she had had probably more than two
dozen orgasms -"because she usually cums at least twice in a fuck.  She was
worn out, but glowing and exhilarated when I got home and I found her
freshly showered, drying her hair with a towel while talking animatedly
with Gary as she sat on the sofa in her bathrobe.  Not the least ashamed of
it, she giggled to confess it all, after Gary left, except for leaving out
mention of the extra three boys and the half dozen fucks they got in.  I
suppose she thought it would bother me that I did not know them, and of
course barely legal age. So this had made her feel bad because I felt
obviously jealous about it and pouted, mostly because I had been left out
but also annoyed how Gary was taking command of her. But then too there
were also the things she did not tell me.  The many times she had fucked my
friends in the apartment when I was gone. Then too there was George and his
buddy, which she did not tell me about.  George from the liquor store. She
only admitted to this after the whole thing was over, when I made a big
mistake that put us in some danger, and we were both expressing our regrets
and misgivings. She said that she had not told me because she was ashamed
of it, not because she had done it, so much as because she had enjoyed it
so much; she was afraid my feelings would be hurt. The whole encounter had
been unexpected, and these men, old enough to be her father, even older,
treated her unexpectedly.  A different generation, whose ideas of how to
treat a woman were also very different than my friends ideas.  Sex between
my wife and my friends had been play.  Sex with these men would be serious.
While my friends viewed my wife's naked body as their toy, these men viewed
my wife's naked body like a religious object.  That is what especially
pleased her: how every touch was tender and how her sexual response
astonished them, gratified them as men who had long ago gave up hoping they
were capable of more than one ejaculation in one fuck session.  At their
time of life one shot was all you got -"if even that.  But my wife was an
aphrodisiac.  Her nakedness tantalized them; it gave them hard-ons just to
undress her, and they did not fail, even if they got a bit logy after first
spent; they stayed just thick enough to keep dicking her and if they kept
pumping, her young cunt held them tightly. They came bearing gifts. 
Literally.  A box of top-shelf booze.  George (and his unnamed friend)
showed up before he had to go to work just a few days after her "flashing"
the two of them.  She was herself getting ready for work at the restaurant.
But this was not like the encounter with Jon and Gary who simply demanded
to fuck her.  They were polite and indirect.  They wanted to express their
"appreciation," and then awkwardly got around to asking if they could meet
her sometime for a drink. She did not want to be evasive, but she hardly
understood what they wanted.  She declined meeting them evenings, and
actually she had to work many of these.  They settled on lunch.  She
settled on the supper club that adjoined a nearby motel, which opened for
"businessmen" lunches.  This was classy place to our tastes and old-school.
The men who went there were all middle-aged, a place for long lunches (with
lots of cocktails) and a place for certain kinds of lunches with
secretaries, for there was convenient and discreet walkthrough to the motel
lobby and to a back hallway leading to the back section of rooms, all of
which discreetly faced a parking lot out of sight of the street.  A
tentative date was set.  She thought the whole thing "sweet." She guessed
perhaps they wanted something sexual; but they had seemed so indirect.  She
was guessing they wanted her for some "art" photos.  She had an older
second cousin, almost more an uncle to her, who had posed her for
photographs in the nude when she was fifteen -"that is another story -"but
it was one important provocations of my own sexual fantasies about Annie.
Anyway, she always insisted that "nothing happened," and that his pictures
were like old-time pin-ups, that even hid from view her recently developing
pubic hair; if she stood for him, he had her cover it with her hand.  I
always wished I had those pictures.  She did not have a single one and if
someone found them, locked in his dresser drawer, after he died, I suppose
they kept them for themselves or destroyed them out of decency.  What a
loss. Well, George had arranged everything, and she walked into it pretty
innocently and stupidly.  She had not known what was planned, but she was
easily persuaded.  Again, she said it was flattering to her, and it felt
naughty and intriguing.  In short, they seduced her after their fashion,
although in the end they were honest and candid about what they wanted.  It
never occurred to her that it was essentially prostitution.  She was paid
in liquor to let them fuck her.  She never really understood that, although
she is worldly and wise now and would easily admit that is what happened. I
don't know that she would be nearly as forgiving to herself as I was to
her. When she told me, I was sympathetic to her. They had a nice lunch.  It
is odd that she never did remember the other man's name.  She doesn't think
he ever said it.  He spoke very little.  He nodded to what George said. 
George took the lead.  He ordered all the food.  He ordered all the drinks.
He anticipated what Annie might like, but he was always asking her what she
wanted.  He had an uncanny knack of knowing what she liked, she said.  It
was something she would express surprise about, and he winked at her.  That
she liked Manhattans, for example, with a maraschino cherry on a stem in a
martini glass with no ice.  How did he know? They had prime rib of beef for
lunch.  Baked potato with sour cream.  The works.  She complained they
would make her fat.  They teased her that she could use a little fat.  She
blushed.  They certainly knew, she admitted.  She said coyly, sipping her
third Manhattan: "You don't think my thighs too fat?" George said she was a
beautiful woman.  If she was fishing, it was they who had caught the fish.
She blushed appropriately.  She fluttered her eyes.  She was half-drunk. 
So when he suggested they go to the room.  She never asked what he meant.
It was all so nice and pleasant and easy and natural, so affectionate and
kind, so sweet and gentle.  They said nothing crude or suggestive, made no
comments or leers.  The room had been prepared.  The curtains were closed.
One of the two twin beds had been laid open to its sheets neatly.  A bottle
of wine, opened before, was ready to be poured into the three glasses on
the round table under the chandelier.  A radio played light classical
music. She was offered wine.  She declined.  George standing before her did
not presume to kiss her mouth.  In fact, she said, he never did kiss her
except on saying goodbye.  But he motioned for her to turn for them and
they watched her.  Then he sat on the foot of the bed and his friend sat on
a chair beside the table behind her and he said: "Undress for us, Annie,
will you please?" This was unexpected, she said, and yet she was not
surprised.  She is certain that she blushed.  She is certain that she said
she shouldn't.  She can't remember it so clearly, she was so swept up by
the whole thing, but she remembers vividly what he said: "Annie, you will
never regret what you will do in this room." She felt utterly under their
charm.  They were fascinated by her body, as she revealed it to them,
dropping her clothing to the floor, where George picked up each article and
folded it and put it on the other bed.  When she was wearing only her
underpants and about to remove them, George lifted his hand to stop her and
motioned her to come closer to where he sat.  And so stepping between his
legs he kissed her nipples and gently felt her breasts.  After leaning back
to look at her and then her face, smiling at her, he motioned for her to
offer herself in the same way to his friend, who caressed her and kissed
her breasts in much the same way. Meanwhile, as she was consciously aware,
George was undressing and when he told her to turn he had undressed to his
undershorts and black socks.  He was pale and almost hairless, she said. 
He looked almost frail and yet his skin was lovely, she felt.  He motioned
her toward him and when she was near he put his hands to her waist and
looked up at her face and said: "We will never do anything that you do not
want us to do." She kissed her belly below the navel and slowly drew down
her underpants.  Once she was completely naked, he took a long time
fondling her as she stood before him, feeling her buttock, lightly
fingering the edges of and the lips of her vagina, petting the smooth mound
of her pubis and its curly hairs. He turned her and kissed her buttock,
holding her cheeks and lightly pushed her to stand before the other man who
had undressed behind her back.  He took his turn fondling her. When they
laid her on the bed, they turned off all but the light from the bathroom.
Then in the dimness, they took turns in silence and fucked her as she lay
on her back, spreading her legs for them, her hands on their backs. 
Between fucks they pulled their undershorts back on.  They each fucked her
twice and seemed very pleased with it.  She said it was pleasant and that
her sexual pleasure had never felt so peaceful.  She said she felt more
worshipped than fucked. She said that after these sessions with George and
his friend she always felt very happy. I asked her how many times she had
done it.  By the third month of our adventures, after which it ended, she
had met them at the motel nine times.  I was astonished, not least because
I knew nothing about it, but because she had gotten so that she had planned
for them, she had accommodated her work schedule for them.  They met once
or twice a week for several weeks.  Each of them fucking her, usually twice
each; and they began to vary their sexual positions, so that often she took
them on her hands and knees and sometimes bent over the table, and in last
few times, because George had hinted at so indirectly, she had initiated
fellatio on them and they were surprised she was willing to do this, but
especially surprised when she let them complete their ejaculations in her
mouth and swallowed it with pleasure.  Neither of them had ever had a woman
suck them off in their entire lives, which for me is commonplace; Annie
still does it for me.