Jean is one of those women’s kind of woman, soft, but with lean round supple curves, medium height, long torso, long legs, and short blond hair. Her breasts are firm and ripe, but not overly large, though definately more than a mouth, or hand full, for that matter. But it was her tight round dimpled derrier that her husband thought was her best asset along with her natual honey blond pubic hair when he’d married her, and being an officer aboard a merchant ship, he would know better than most men the real worth of a woman. When he was home that is.

It hadn’t occured to Jean, when she’d first married Harrold Davis, of Beach Water, Florida at the age of 27 that she’d married a workaholic, nor that her new husband would be away for long months at a time to be able to support her in a fitting manner behoving one of her cultural upbringing,, and status, but after several years of drawing out college she’d at last graduated. After aquiring a BA in Literary Arts at his expense, she found that she had a lot of time to sit around the newly built in swimming pool in their back yard when the weather was cool, or lay out on their secluded lake front beach when the weather was warm. In either case, she rarely had more clothes on most days than some skimpy bikini, or bra and panties set.

They’d talked about her finding work, but that’s as far as that went. Jean had no intention of going to work at some regular 9 to 5 job. She had a social life to think about after all, and that kept her late evenings booked most weekdays, thanks to her mother, and her friends, when Harold was off sailing, and getting up early was out of the question. Yet today being the fourth of July, and with the aroma of barbeque pits wafting at her from every nearby home Jean suddenly felt alone, and dissatisfied with her existance.

“Hello there!”

Jean opened her eyes and through the Foster Grant’s stared up at her new next door neighbor, Dave Simmons. They’d met this last winter when he’d moved in, and Harold had been home. Jean hadn’t exactly flirted with the man, not with that voluptuous red headed wife coiled to his side, but she had noted his rugged handsomeness, even as Harold had oggled the man’s wife, openly staring at the woman’s balloon boobs right in front of Jean. Even then she could tell he was physically fit, but now, here in front of her, right at her feet wearing those boxer swimming trunks she was damn near ready to salivate over the tanned Adonis grinning down on her.

“Hi,” he said, seeing her adjust her sun glasses downward, “Betty and I were just wondering, that is, we couldn’t help notice that Harold is still out at sea, and we have all this food, and a few friends coming over to help us celebrate the fourth, and watch the fireworks out on the lake later. Oh hell, now I’m just blabbering away, and not getting to the point.” He took a deep breath then, and got out; “Would you care to join us? We’d love to have you at the party. It’s not all married couples, so you wouldn’t stick out if you came alone.”

“I don’t know,” Jean hessitated, then considering she had nothing going on, and if she went she wouldn’t have to cook just for herself, “on second thought, what time do you want me to come over, and what should I wear?”

“Most everyone will probably be wearing beach wear, so you can come as you are now, or something else just as casual if you prefer. The food will be on the grill in an hour, and all I need to know now is, how do you like your steak?”

It wasn’t so much that he was staring at her, as he hardly had to visually strip her since she was wearing so little anyway, but his eyes seemed to devoure all that he saw as if a raw hunger was there at his center, and it made Jean drool from a different set of lips entirely, wetting the lining of her crotch’s small yet modest briefs. The man had to be at least six years younger than her, and with a wife as extravagantly lovely as his, she couldn’t help but be flattered by his attention.

“Rare,” she replied, and this time they both knew she was openly flirting back as she added, “and marinated, of course.”

“Of course,” Dave grinned, staring straight at the growing wet spot in her bikini bottoms.

Well, she thought to herself, it isn’t like I’m actually doing anything wrong, all women flirt.

“I’ll see you there, at six then,” Dave said, and turned away, body first, face last, allowing him to catch her glance down at his retreating butt at the last second.

Jean wasn’t sure how she ended up in the only thong bikini she owned, the silky powder blue thing had only been meant for Harold’s and her honeymoon. It was nearly see through, but not quite, and tied with strings to hold it in place at the sides on her hips, and the back of her neck. She’d even had to shave a trim on her pubic hair to wear it. Three small triangles basicly, but strategically placed, the thong bikini wasn’t meant to hide anything really, just enhance what was already there, and add that peek-a-boo mystique about the female it was hanging on. However Jean was one of those women who made clothes look good, not vice versa, and she suddenly felt a thrill of slutty exhibitionism run through her, before she grabbed the sheer red, and pink flowered wrap around and tied it at her left hip as a make shift skirt, and slipped into her high heeled clogs.

“They can’t say this isn’t casual,” she said to her mirror image then turned and headed for her neighbors house next door.

Jean was half way there when she almost turned around to change into something a lot more conservative, like a garage, but just as she was about to turn and tuck tail, she spied Betty, Dave’s wife, in that Bay Watch bimbo body of hers dressed in an even tinnier, and white no less, French cut thong, than Jean had on, and without a wrap mind you, and that made up her mind for her right then.

“Hi!” Jean called out as she approached now only twenty feet away.

“Well hello,” Betty returned, smiling. It was as if the woman was actually happy to see Jean there, even meeting her half way with a quick hug and peck on the cheek hollywood fashion. “I was so happy when Dave said you’d accepted our invitation. It must be so terribly lonely for you when Harold is off sailing. I know I’d be devistated living here all alone if Dave wasn’t home every night. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“It’s not that bad, really,” Jean lied, finding a new friend in the most unlikely person of her sexy next door neighbor, and becoming instantly comfortable as the red head handed her what looked like a fruit drink, and tasted devilishly good going down.

“We’re just serving Mai Tai’s, and beer,” Betty said, pointing to a punch bowl, “but if you prefer something else let me know. The others will be arriving soon, so just plop down, and make yourself at home. I’ll tell Dave to put your steak on now.”

“No hurry, this is fine, thank you,” Jean replied, then quickly finished her drink, and got another one before finding a chaise lounge to sit in that over looked the tranquil lake.

It didn’t take long for the guests to start arriving, dribbling in at first, Jean was able to catch a few names, but as the crowd grew, she gave up. As promised though, there were plenty of singles, as well as married people, and most were all around her age save for the occasional over forty or so, and happily married couples sprinkled in, and plenty of color to the whole lot she noticed. Jean’s steak arrived about the time she finished her third drink. A london broil, marinated as promised, and delivered by the chef himself.

“Now save some room for Betty’s brownies,” Dave said, smiling charmingly, “they’re always the hit of every party. There’s salads, and all kinds of things over on the table,” he pointed, “just help yourself, and I’ll join you later when my time at the pit is finished.”

Jean smiled back, just as charmingly, though she wasn’t quite sure why. She had no intention of getting too intimate with Betty’s husband, after all, they were both married. Still, she would welcome his company, and conversation, she told herself, and went to get another drink along with some salad, already feeling quite stimulated, and relaxed by the previous three Mai Tais she giggled suddenly about absolutely nothing.

Sitting next to Dave on the same chaise lounge, munching on her third brownie, and umpteenth Mai Tai, Jean couldn’t remember ever having seen such a magnificient fireworks display in all of her life. The colors seemed so outragously vivid, and the fading sparkles so detailed that she was sure she could reach right out and touch them.

“Wow! Look at that one! Oooooooooooooooooo!” And all around her there was a choir of Oohs, and Awes in simpathy with her own.

Jean turned her head to smile then, and got the surprise of her life. Behind her, in almost every direction, men and women were groping and fondling each other’s privates openly. Even Betty, her hostess, was standing there, just a few feet away, staring up at the fireworks as a strange black man stood behind her, his arms around her from behind, with his left hand down the front of her thong, and his right hand mauling her breasts now exposed to the night air. And Jean could plainly see that Betty had a good hand full of the man’s incredibly large erection, stroking it with her right hand. Jean immediatly looked to Dave sitting next to her, and caught him smiling at his wife, before turning back to Jean, and shrugging his shoulders as if this were to be expected.

“We have an open marriage,” he explained, “we’re swingers by choice. As are most of those here at the party. No, don’t be alarmed, no one will bother you if you don’t want them to. The women make the choices here, not the men. It’s easier that way, and less cause for mistakes, or confusion, or hurt feelings.”

“You mean Betty wouldn’t mind, if I, or that is, you and I…..” Jean found herself stumbling over her words, her lips feeling as thick as her tongue did.

“Had sex?”

“Well, yes, I suppose,” Jean agreed, her mind suddenly a foggy mist almost as wet as the crotch in her thong right then.

“Do you want to?”

“Yes, well, no, I mean, I’m married….”

“Me too,” Dave replied with that evil grin of his and closed in for a kiss.

Their tongues dueled back and forth from his mouth to Jean’s, and her body suddenly began to float in the air, her brain in a whirlwind, her body the storm rising. She had no control what so ever over herself, and when she was next aware of her surroundings, she was in a bed, on her back, legs wide open, with Dave overtop of her. They were both obviously naked, and just as obvious was the fact that Dave’s cock was sliding in and out of Jean’s wet slit repeatedly as she fell over the edge of a pinnical, and again saw fireworks dazzling before her eyes in the valley of orgasma.

“Ooooooooohhh, soooooooo goooooooooooooood!” Jean heard herself moaning like some cheap slut in a dirty movie of Harold’s as she rocketed to yet another orgasm on top of the last unending one. “It’s been so long! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck Mmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Jean had never experianced such a powerful climaxing in her entire life, as every nerve in her body jolted her with its own sexual bolt of lightening over and over again. It was as if Jean were being fucked by every man that had come to the party, one after the other. Each male barely finishing up in her pussy before the next in line stabbed into her and kept her cunt in a turmoil of promiscuous retention towards the next all consuming climax. She almost recoiled when she next opened her eyes and found out that was exactly what was happening to her, as the face of the man on top of her surely wasn’t Dave, nor the man behind him, waiting for his turn at Jean’s body next.

The only thing that stopped Jean from screaming then was Betty, as the woman’s face came into focus next to Jean, and laid a kiss on Jean the likes of which she’d never forget, and she relaxed as the woman’s voice cooed in her right ear with the most endering scandelous, lechery Jean had ever heard.

“That’s it Jean,” Betty whispered, “just go with the flow. I’m right here with you, and I won’t let any of them hurt you. Just keep pumping that pussy up along the length of that nice thick, long dick. Yes, that’s it, like that. Very good. You love the way that cock is fucking you don’t you? Yes, it has been a while, hasn’t it. I’ll just bet if you tried hard enough, you could make up for all of the fucking Harold has denied you by being away from you so long. Hold on, here comes the next cock for you. A nice fat juicey black dick this time. He’ll stretch you out properly, I’m sure, and there are plenty more like him waiting for their turn, don’t you worry.”

And when Betty wasn’t smoozing her to lift up her legs for one man or the other, the woman was groveling at Jean’s twat sucking her clean down there for the next five or six dicks waiting to have Jean, and more and more of them were very dark in color. Even bringing Jean to several climaxes with her lips and tongue in the process. Jean started fading in and out of reality from then on. Deciding that it was all just a dream, a figment of her sexually deprived imagination, and way too many Mai Tais.

************

The morning sun filtering through the white curtains warmed Jean’s naked flesh arousing her from her sleep. She couldn’t remember coming home, but she must have, as this was her bedroom, and this was her side of the bed that she was laying on, on her side. Her head felt a bit fuzzy, but she figured that was from the drinks, and then she remembered her wild dream of being the center of an orgy in her next door neighbors bed at the party last night, and she smiled at her own silly illusions. She was no more a slut than, well, she had almost thought Betty, but after seeing Betty playing with that strangers big black cock last night, she’d have to rethink that. Then her eyes flew wide open as the bed moved without her doing the moving.

Someone was in bed with Jean, and that someone was spooning up behind her with a very erect, very big cock. Then she felt a hand smooth over her waist, coming around her front from behind, and a quick look as it cupped her right breast nearly gave Jean a heart attack. The hand was as black as coal next to her white marbled flesh. Before she could cry out in protest though, that cock sliced into her slippery slit stretching Jean’s vagina like someone’s whole hand was giving her cunt an examination. Jean couldn’t understand in the first place why her pussy was so well lubricated that it could take such a huge cock, and in the second, how was such a cock able to just slid right into her the way it just had without causing her any real pain, and third, why oh why did it feel so fucking good?

Then Jean remembered, as if a brilliant flash had just illuminated her brain. The guy in bed with her was one of Betty’s lovers, Byron, or something like that. Betty and Dave had given him to Jean to take her home and feed her all the black cock she wanted from now on while Harold was away at sea now, and in the future. Jean still wasn’t quite sure why she had accepted such a strange offer, but now, with that big black drill bit boring a tunnel out of her cunt she was hard pressed to begin complaining about it.

“Damn baby! You’re the tightest white bitch I ever did lay this pipe too, even after fucking all of those guys last night.”

“I’ll bet you say that to all your married white sluts,” Jean threw out sarcastically, when what she really wanted to do was coo like a contented pigeon. If Byron was put off by Jean’s comment, he didn’t show it.

“Nope, never did, you’re the first, and deffinately the finest,” he replied, and snuggled the last inch of his horse sized dick into her cunt and up against Jean’s cervix.

“Oooooooooooooohhhhh, oh shit!” Jean moaned. “Damn, that feels good!” And she wriggled her hips back at that invading black lance feeling the coarse pubic hairs of his rub against her butt like buffalo fur.

“That’s it baby, show me how you love this ole nigger dick up that fine white married pussy of yours,” and he began a slow in and out fucking motion doing Jean from behind as they laid on their sides in her marriage bed.

“Oh, oh yessssss! Fuck me with your big Nigger dick Byron! Fuck my married white pussy! Stretch it out as big as the fucking Grand Canyon! Oh! Ooooooooooo! Oh yesssssss!”

Jean didn’t know what had come over her to make her so wanton all of the sudden, but six months without sex surely had a lot to do with it, and that was all Harold’s fault as far as she was concerned. Women needed sex just as much as men did, didn’t they? And she couldn’t be sure, but she suspected that Harold wasn’t going without sex, not for six months, and being a sailor he probably had more than one whore in those ports he visited on his ship.

There, she’d thought that word. Whore. And wasn’t she one now?

“Yessssssssssss! Fuck me, Byron! Make me your whore for life! Your white, married, Nigger loving whore!”

“No problem,” Byron snickered, hammering his big black prick into Jean, his hard abs slapping against her butt and jiggling that tight white cushioned meat, “I’ll even pimp you out to a few of my friends if you want!”

That pushed Jean over the edge, and she groaned into a mind numbing orgasm. Her hips thrusting back, and swiveling at the stranger’s dick fucking her like an animal in heat in her own wedding bed. The smell of sex assailing her nostrils like an ambrosia to her senses. “Aaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg!! I’m cuming! Cummmmmmmiinnnnnnnnnnnnnggg! Cuuuuuuummmmmmminnnnnnngggggggggg!”

“That’s it whore! Cum on my fucking dick! Then we can start all over doing it doggy style, eh! Maybe next time, I’ll even bring my dog over to fuck this nasty white cunt of yours! Would you like that?! Would you like fucking a dog, bitch?”

Jean couldn’t stop cuming. The nastier the man got, the raunchier he spoke, the more intense her orgasms became. To the point where, if Byron wanted her to do it, she would, no matter how vial the conditions. She was his white married whore now, after all, now wasn’t she? The whore of a Nigger had little choice in who, or even what her pimp wanted her to fuck, and that surely included her fucking his dog, didn’t it? After all, that’s what whore’s like Jean did, didn’t they? And there was no doubt in her mind now that Jean was a Nigger’s whore. The proof was fucking her pretty blond pussy right now, wasn’t it.

Jean never got out of bed for more than the time it took to make them something to eat, or go to the bathroom all that day. She even lost her ass cherry to Byron after lunch, and wondered why she hadn’t considered doing that with Harold when that climax ripped through her, but then she wasn’t a whore for Harold, now was she.

“I swear Betty, I must be bow legged now,” Jean said over coffee, and left over brownies at Betty’s house the next day, “I can’t get my thighs to touch, they’ve been disjointed.”

“I know how you feel, Byron left me feeling like an empty stump hole the day after he first fucked me. But oooooh, what a lovely feeling when he’s stretching you out.”

“You can say that again,” Jean cliched, making them both giggle as Dave came in the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee.

“Now why do I think you two are discussing the merits of big hard throbbing black dicks?” Dave inquired as he poured his cup full of caffine.

“Oh hush, you love it when I fuck other men,” Betty threw back at him, “especially when you can watch their black cocks forcing my red fringed white pussy open to the size of the London Tunnel.”

“Well, I’m just glad Jean doesn’t have a case of the guilts, like you did that first time.”

“If anyone should feel guilty in my book,” Jean said vehemently, “it’s my husband. He should have been back months ago fucking me silly, but where is he? Out making his first million instead. Like that’s really gonna rub my pussy the right way, now that’s it’s had a taste of, dare I say it, Nigger meat. I could have been Harold’s whore, but now I’m Byron’s. And you know what? I like it.”

Her new friends winced when she said the W word, but it was the truth, at least as far as Jean was concerned. After all, when a married women fucks other men, she is a whore, Jean thought, and realized then that she thought so rather proudly, even if a bit sore down there as a matter of fact.

“So does Betty,” Dave chuckled, “once she got the knack of it, or should I say the knock. We just found out last week. Betty’s pregnant.”

“And it isn’t Dave’s,” Betty grinned, “he always wears rubbers when he fucks me.”

“How come?” Jean asked.

“Because my black lovers told him he had to,” Betty replied, laughing out loud, much to Dave’s blushing embarrassment, “he’s been cuckolded by my black lover Darrel now since the day Dave introduced me, and gave me to him to fuck, and you know what Jean?”

“What?”

“Dave likes being a cuckold. In fact nothing gets him hotter than having sloppy seconds, thirds, of tenths from the last black cocks to screw me, or being forced to eat my pussy clean after my Niggers service me for several hours.”

“No shit?!”

“Well, only if my last fuck was in my ass,” and Betty started giggling with Jean nearly laughing hysterically right along with her.

“Yeah, well, laugh ladies,” Dave threw back, “I knew what I was getting into when I started this. And Betty hasn’t even told you half the shit she’s gone through since breaking the color barrier. Wait until Byron brings his dog over.”

“He really has a fucking dog?” Jean asked amazed.

“A very big, very black, very hung, sporting dog,” Betty said, and this time she was the one to blush beet red.

“And you really let him…….?????” Jean could hardly get the words out to ask such a daring question, but then she didn’t have to as Betty nodded sheepishly, hidding a wicked grin from her husband the best she could in the process.

Jean had a million questions she wanted to ask Betty, like how could Jean cuckold Harold, and how did it feel getting fucked by a damn dog, and what was it like after she’d done such a grotesquely obscene bestial act like that? However now didn’t seem like the right time, and she had to get home to get ready for Byron’s return. Byron had suggested that she dress up a bit, wear something sexy, and a bit kinky as he would be bringing her a surprise this afternoon after he got off of work. So instead she finished her cup of coffee, and said her good-byes to them both, and was out the back door in less than five minutes.

The house was immaculate, Jean was bubble bath fresh, powdered, perfumed, laquered, and painted up, and dressed in deep purple. Purple garterbelt, a matching half cup bra that left her pink nipples exposed, seamed nylons, thonged panties, and ankle straped high heeled pumps, an outfit that Harold had bought for her on a whim after their honeymoon. Jean not only felt like a complete slut now, she looked the part as she opened the front door at the first knock.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about Devil,” Byron said to the panting black Great Dane standing next to him as he entered Jean’s house, and without further ado took her white ass in his large right black hand and squeezed gently, “this ho makes everything she wears look goooood! Now wouldn’t you pay real money for some of this pussy? What’s that? No cash? No problem, this bitch is on me, buddy.”

Byron had outdone himself by getting dressed up in his idea of a 70′s pimp outfit. An all hot pink polyester suit, a black silk shirt, and white silk tie, with a matching white fedora hat on top of his bald black head, the gold earing in his right ear even had a diamond in it, not to mention all the gold littering his fingers.

“I brung you your first paying customer ho,” he then said to Jean, “and treat him right, he’s got lots of friends in high places, if ya know what I means,” then turning to the dog again, “What’s that? You want to share the bitch with me! Well shit man! Let’s do it!”

With little fanfare, and as crass as he could, Byron pulled down his pant’s zipper, and hauled his flacid slab of dark meat out into the light, and looking sharply at Jean said, “well get to it bitch! Suck this Nigger hard before I slap you up side the head!”

It was all an act of course, as Jean upon seeing that black night stick immediately went down on her knees to do just that. Her red painted lips parting as she came in close to that uncircumsized black prick, and she let it slip into her mouth, sliding along her tongue to the back of her throat before pulling back slowly, sucking her first Nigger cock ever like she’d been born a cocksucker.

“Oh yasssssssss! That’s it baby! Suck that big mo fo right down your honky throat! I love that!”

Jean would have laughed hearing this on one of Harold’s porno tapes, but for some reason she couldn’t quite fathom, she loved the way he was talking down to her, as if she were some cheap back alley hooker, bought and paid for. If Harold could only see me now, Jean thought, bobbing her head back and forth the length of that magnificient black cock, he’d probably faint, she told herself. And a picture of what she must look like on her knees sucking off that big Nigger dick flashed in her brain causing a thrill to shiver through her spontaniously.

“Hey Devil,” Byron spoke to the dog again, “go lick at that split boy! I know she’ll love that!”

Jean had been mentally prepared for anything except the feeling of that dog’s tongue as it swiped up the full length of her crack through her purple thong from clit to the top of her ass, and then it got even crazier when Byron ripped the thong right off of her ass as that tongue slid right inside of her pussy licking as if out of the dog’s own water bowl. Her body raced head long into its first orgasm of the day thanks to that Devilish oral digit, and from that point on Jean really didn’t care what these two would do to, or with her. She was on the Soul Train to Climaxville, riding in the express cars. Her hips swiveling, humping back at the dog’s tongue as she damn near swallowed that black prick of her master all the way to the root of his kinky black pubic hairs.

In truth, Jean had never felt like such a low life piece of filth as she did at this moment, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why that pleased her to no end, but it did. Jean was a black man’s white plaything now, a whore, and a slut, and all the worst connotations to those two words. He could piss down her throat, and she’d only beg for more, and they both knew it. It was getting harder by the minute to remember that only two days ago she’d been a prim and proper married woman of some stature in the community, and here she was now, nothing more than a bitch in heat for every Nigger and his dog, and loving it.

Then she felt Byron pat her on the rump just before Devil hopped up onto her haunches, and wrapped his front paws around her thin waist. There was some more movement on Devil’s part as he adjusted his stance, and his prick poked in between Jean’s thighs, and all around her wet fleshy pussy trying to find the way inside.

“Well give him a hand, bitch!” Byron commanded, and Jean reached down between her legs with her right hand, took hold of the slick slimy dog peter, and brought the pointy end to just inbetween her labia minora.

With his cannine cock tip right where it needed to be, Devil gave a vicious thrust forward with his hind end as he pulled Jean’s hips back with his front paws. Jean screamed around Byron’s dick in her mouth as the dog’s cock knifed into her snatch like a charging thunderbolt straight to Jean’s core, and she began to orgasm just from having the dog’s prick in her human twat for the first time in her life, making her a real dog’s bitch now. Her orgasm so powerful she almost fainted as every nerve in her system popped its circuit breakers at once, and she almost choked on Byron’s black dick at the same time. Just barely managing to spit it out in time to catch her breath.

“That’s it!” Byron cheered. “Fuck the bitch! She loves it!”

“Ooooooooooo yesssssssssssssss! Fuck me doggy! Fuck your bitch! Fuck meeeeeee!”

“You heard da bitch, fuck her, boy! Give it to her good!”

Devil didn’t have to be told twice, and his hind end began to blur as he poured the pork to Jean like she’d never had dick thrown at her pussy before. Her slit had hardly been used, up until a couple of days ago, and now, after a party in which she was gang banged by at least no less than 25 different men, and later turned into the personal whore of a Nigger named Byron ever since, here she was now, on her hands and knees dressed up like some sexy playboy centerfold bunny having her pussy pumped furiously by the cock of a dog that felt like the size of her husband’s fist and arm, at the rate of an insane cement demolishing, air powered, trip hammer. And worse, that battering cock was growing bigger inside of her already stretched out pussy every moment. Truly the black bastard on her back, panting over her left shoulder was the Devil himself fucking her.

“Oh shit, he’s getting bigger!” Jean cried out in pain wracked pleasure.

“That’s just his knot baby,” Byron said, “don’t let it worry you, that pussy of yours is where babies come out, it will stretch to accomidate it. That’s how they lock with a bitch, you know, to knock the bitch up proper.”

Byron’s lecture did nothing to ease the pain, but it did, for some reason, intensify the pleasure for Jean to know that she was being treated no better, or worse than any other bitch Devil, or any other dog for that matter, would fuck. In fact the insanity of the moment brought her to a new level of orgasms, even higher than any previously experianced by Jean, so that now pain too had become a part of her glorious climactic resume. She felt extremely dirty, being a part of this bestial act, and found herself wallowing further into the filth of her own downfall as it were, especially when the cannine on her back, with his cock firmly locked into her human cunt, began pissing his puppy making sperm into her prime realestate.

Liquid heat splashed along every centimeter of Jean’s cunt linning, burning against her friction heated soul like a firethrower washing away the last morsals of her humanity. Jean would have barked like a bitch, or howled at the moon then if she’d been able to think clearly at that point, but instead, all she could manage was a whimper of gratitude as the dog used her body for his own inhuman pleasure, fulfilling hers in the process, before finally laying exhausted drapped over her backside with his discharge leaking out around their connection in a steady stream.

“Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!”

“I told you,” Byron said, “she makes for one hell of a bitch, doesn’t she, boy.”

Jean couldn’t even move after that royal fucking. Locked with the dog’s enormous cock the way she was she could only collapse her elbows to let her chest and face fall flat on the carpet, her rump stuck up high in the air as if ready to take on a whole kennel of dogs one by one. It seemed to take forever for Devil’s cannine prick to shrink up enough for him to dislodge himself from her snatch, but then he finally did, and that’s when things got extremely filthy for her.

“Okay bitch, now suck his dick clean,” Byron ordered Jean.

Had anyone said to her a month earlier that she’d never even blink when it was suggested that she put her lips to the cock of a dog, and suck his grotesque prick clean after it had just fucked her to at least six powerful multiple orgasms, Jean would have laughed at such a sick joke. However now, Jean didn’t even think twice at Byron’s proposal, she just did as she was told to, like any good pimp’s whore would. Crawling over to where the Great Dane was laying on his side, licking at his own cock casually, Jean took hold of Devil’s prick gently in her right hand, and parting her lips, simply guided the strange skinned piece of meat into her mouth, and began to blow the fucking dog right there in her own living room. Devil must have been use to such things with his human bitches, because he didn’t even growl when his cock passed through between those teeth of hers on its way down Jean’s throat. He just lay there, head up, as if a king at court getting his just due.

Jean couldn’t help notice though how clean the animal really was. The scent of dog only strong around Devil’s prick, and the gamey flavor really didn’t taste that bad either when she thought about it. In fact, on further reflection, Jean thought it tasted pretty damn good, even better than Harold her husband after a thorough workout in the gym, and she began to suck the dog’s gastly penis with real enthusiasm then.

“That’s it ho, suck that dog dick, you filthy slut, and hold still while I shove this black dick up your fine lily white ass!”

Since Jean figured she had little choice in the matter, she tried to stop wagging her ass in the air as she blew the Great Dane.

“Damn Devil! You stretched her pussy so far open it won’t close back up any time too soon. Hell, I can see her fucking liver, her cunt is gaping open so much!”

Jean was certain that Byron wasn’t exaggerating very much, it sure felt as if there was a breeze swirling around inside of her just fucked cave too. But the truth was suddenly felt as Byron’s cock entered her pussy, and as big as his black prick was, it barely touched her in there now, before he pulled it back out, and pushed the head of his dick against her spincter, prying that teeny tiny hole open. The pain of entry was immediately mixed with the filthy thrill of having her shit hole violated by Byron’s big black Nigger cock. There was just something about letting a Nigger take her in her white ass that was just too irrisistablely wicked, and thrilling to Jean to put into mere words. She’d never have let Harold talk her into letting him fuck her poop hole, but with Byron, Jean was already a low life whore, so what did it really matter that only shit came out of that hole. If he wanted to cram his whole fucking black fist up there, and dig for turd nuggets, she’d have let him. Yet for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why that was, she only accepted it as being natural for a raving slut of her caliber, and low life self esteem. After all, she was blowing a fucking dog, how much worse was that compared to a little fucking in the ass? Especially when Byron fucked her ass to such wonderful, and powerful orgasms as he did.

“Damn baby! Your ass is so fucking tight I swear it could squeeze the life out of a pencil!”

“Mmmmmmhmmmmmmm,” Jean moaned around the Great Dane’s prick, and pushed her ass back at that invading ebony pole just for the fuck of it.

“Hot damn, Devil!” Byron cried out in pleasure. “You primed this bitch real good, boy! Look at her ass wag back and forth trying to get all of my Nigger dick in there! Man! What a ho!”

Jean guessed that about summed it up as far as she was concerned now. What a ho, indeed. She felt like one great big stretched out muck hole now, and if it didn’t bother Byron, and it sure didn’t seem to, then it surely wasn’t going to bend her brain too much either. In seconds Byron had his whole dick stuck up her ass, and began a slow in and out fucking motion that caused Jean’s lips to slid the full length of the dog’s dick she was sucking on simultaniously. She’d never had two pricks fucking her at the same time before, but she was going to keep it on her menu from now on, that’s for sure, as one dick pushed into her, the other withdrew, and vice versa. It was like having one very long extended prick fucking her from one end of her body to the other. In, out, in, out, over and over again, those two pricks, one human, the other animal, like a perpetual machine going back and forth, pumping in and out together, using her, and being used by her for her own wicked, and more than disgustingly perverse pleasures. Jean was the cream filling in their insane oreo cookie manage a trois. A ho? No doubt about that, but a working ho nevertheless, Jean thought, and that would make Harold happy. That’s when the front door suddenly opened, and in walked Harold Davis himself carrying his seabag over his shoulder, with a quickly disappearing shit eating grin dissolving on his face at what he found taking place in his living room as he came to a sudden body jaring stand still just inside the door way.

“What the fu…….???” Harold barely managed to choke out before he was hit from behind with a sock full of metal slugs by his next door neighbor, Dave.

“Shit man! Don’t kill him!” Byron shouted, as Dave closed the door behind them.

“Don’t worry, he’s still breathing okay, just knocked out is all,” Dave replied, then put Harold over his right shoulder in a fireman’s carry and took him to the couch, and stretched him out, “but it does take away from the movie we’re making.”

“We’ll edit it out,” Byron said gruffly, pissed at Dave’s actions, then went back to fucking Jean’s tight ass as if nothing had happened, “once we show him the finished tape, he’ll keep his mouth shut. Just make sure he doesn’t wake up before we finish this, or those loaded brownies wear off.”

“No problem,” Betty called out from her hidding place by the cellar stairs holding her camera, “I’m still rolling.

It all happened so fast, and while Jean was in a total drugged sexual stupor, that she never even knew that her husband had finally come home from the sea, and was even now knocked out like a light switch turned off suddenly, on their living room couch only six feet away behind her. Jean only knew that she was very close to cuming with that big black dick sawing in and out of her ass as Byron’s left hand diddled her clitty, and she wagged her ass back in a furious rotating, humping action racing towards another gut busting orgasm.

That’s when the dog’s cock start spritzing her tonsils with cannine semen, the taste of dog cum thin, sticky, and above all, as filthy as she had expected as her throat worked double time to swallow it all, and Jean lost all touch with reality for the next half hour as her flesh was wracked with one multiple orgasm after another as Byron’s cock unloaded inside of her rump. Her last rational thought was to wonder just how much she was making being the whore for a dog, and a Nigger both at the same time.

“I think we should have used those Extasy laced brownies on you that first time Betty,” Dave said as they were closing the door behind them to leave the married couple alone with Byron and Devil to figure things out on their own when they revived.

“You didn’t need it for me, remember,” Betty quiped as the door shut solidly behind her.

Part II:

Harold was sure he had the worlds worst hangover headach as he came to, and he couldn’t even remember having gotten drunk. There was light on the other side of his eye lids though, he was sure of that, and only hoped that it wasn’t too bright before opening them. The ceiling looked familiar when he at last did, and the light came from a nearby lamp that didn’t blaze pinholes in his retina. The lamp looked vaguely familiar as well, and then he remembered it was the one in his own living room, and suddenly everthing of those last few seconds entering his house flashed brightly in his brain like a branding iron condemning him for his long abscence away from home, and hearth. His one true love down on her knees in that slutty attire he had bought for her himself, and sucking on a huge dog’s cock as some black stranger buggered her in the asshole. Harold sat straight up on the couch then, and received a low warning growl from the self same demon cannine, its teeth bared, and only six inches from his throat.

“I wouldn’t do anything cute if I were you,” said the black man sitting comfortably in Harold’s favorite chair, “and deffinately nothing very fast either.”

“What have you done to my Jean?” Harold asked, seeing her passed out, face down, butt up, and leaking a white creamy slime from her still opened asshole. He wanted to punch the man, and fuck Jean’s ass both, all at the same time.

“Don’t give me that self rightous crap Harold,” Byron said, with contempt, “you leave a women this fine alone for over six months and you’ve got to expect her to be doing something with someone else if you ain’t gonna supply her any dick yourself. She’s only human you know. Oh, and you don’t even want to try to convince me that you ain’t been dicking every whore you met since you left, cause you know I know better.”

The man had him there, Harold was a sailor after all, and a gourmand pussy chaser. Still, Jean could have conducted herself like the lady she professed to be when they first met, couldn’t she?

“She didn’t have to go whoring around with Niggers, and, and DOGS, did she?” Harold shot back.

“Hey, whoring is the oldest profession around my friend, and you did want her to get a good job, remember.”

Harold was crushed, as his own words came back to bite him on the ass.

“She’s got a fucking college degree, she didn’t need to become a whore!” Harold grumbled, though mostly under his breath.

“We’re all whores, in one way or another Harold, and you of all people should know that the way you work, and don’t sit there with your dick hard as a rock, and tell me this whole thing doesn’t turn you on, cause I knows better. You loved seeing your wife down there on her knees getting her butt fucked by my big black, Nigger dick, and seeing her mouth wrapped around my dog’s dick was just gravy on top, and we both know it.”

Was the bastard a mind reader too, Harold wondered, and put his hands over his crotch to hide the evidence that accused him.

“Okay, so your feelings are hurt that you didn’t come up with the idea first, and instigate it, but it’s too late to cry about it now. Face it, you’re a cuckold, and you like being one too, I’ll bet. Don’t worry, I’m not about to put a high class bitch like your wife on some street corner selling her ass. She’ll be coming to work in my office, and I’ll see to it that she gets a regular income too.”

“But she’ll still be whoring for you, won’t she,” Harold said bitterly.

“Why all the concern now, you haven’t written, or called her in months.”

“Because she’s my wife, Damn it!” Harold raised his guilt laced voice, and teeth were suddenly at his jugular as the dog damn near swallowed his neck without breaking the skin.

“That was a warning,” Byron said, “back Devil, release! Give me any more shit, and I’ll just let him eat you. Nobody knows your home, certainly not your wife in her condition.’

“She’s drugged?!”

“Well of course she is stupid,” Byron chuckled, “you don’t really think a high class white broad like that would be fucking Niggers, and dogs if she wasn’t drunk, or drugged both, do you? Oh she may have wanted to, but she never would have let go on her own, and once she did, we knew she would condemn herself better than we, or even you could. Nothing you can say now will convince her that she’s anything other than a low life scum receptical. You see, once she let go, she found out that she liked wallowing in the filth, and that can’t be cured. Don’t worry, we didn’t use anything long enough, or strong enough for her to get hooked on, and Extasy laced in marijuana brownies only hightens the sensual perceptions, and awareness, especially touch, and taste. And just think, now you can fuck your neighbor’s wife Betty too, without getting nagged at by Jean.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me alright,” Byron said getting to his feet and snapping his fingers signaling Devil to heel at his side. “Dave, your new neighbor, has been a cuckold now for over two years, not to me, but to another Nigger by the name of Darrel. Betty’s just too damn fine a woman to settle for Dave’s average sized white weenie for the rest of her life, I guess. Anyway, you might want to get together with them sometime soon, like tonight maybe, and find out what is expected of you from now on. Hand Betty a C-note and she’ll do you up right anytime. Remember, Jean might have been your wife three days ago, but she’s my whore now, and that’s just tough shit if you don’t like it. I’ll just send the tape we made around to all of your family, friends, and shipmates if you try fucking this up, and there ain’t no place you can hide that I, or my friends can’t find you either.”

Byron got all the way to the front door, and turned back to face Harold one last time.

“Think of it this way Harold,” he commented, petting his dog then giving him another signal, “most men when they marry a woman expect her to be their whore in bed. Well now she is, and you don’t even have to pay me for the service. I’ll call you two later, and we’ll get together tomorrow to hash it all out. Until then, if I was you, I’d go real fucking slow on the condemnations, you aren’t exactly on her good side right now.” and with that Byron was out the door, but the Great Dane was still there, and he wandered over to Jean, gave her raised butt a couple of licks, and layed down next to her.

It was twenty minutes later that Jean began to stir on the living room carpet, rolling onto her back from a kneeling fetal postion, she ended up sprawled with her arms and legs wide open. It gave Harold one hell of a view of his wife’s crotch now. Nearly all of her blond pubic thatch had been shaved away, save for a small dense short cropped triangle pointing down at her slit an inch or so above her clit, and about an inch and a half wide at the top. Her whole crotch area was oiled in male scum, both human and animal, with her ass still dribbling some white stringy rope, while her pussy leaked out a more watery thin, and obviously cannine nectar. It looked to Harold as if a truck could now park in that formerly pristine pussy, and that a baseball bat had been used to fuck her asshole open, the way those two holes were still stretched out so open, and he could see straight inside both of those warped holes of hers now.

Harold had been well blessed with a ten inch cock himself, but he’d never left Jean looking so totally used the way she looked now. As if she’d fucked the whole damn fleet all by herself.

“Ooooooohhhh!” Jean moaned coming around, and then suddenly she sat right up. “Oh! It’s you! You’re home, eh.”

Jean got to her feet then, shakily, but upright nonetheless. She noticed that Devil was right at her side wagging his tail, but Byron was nowhere in sight, so she patted the animal, and scratched behind his ears like Byron always did. Harold hadn’t said a word about what she was wearing or the state she was in, but she gathered herself and stood straight, then without another word marched up the stairs to their bedroom to bath and change cloths as if nothing were out of the ordinary, with Devil following at her right side.

“We have to talk,” Harold said, once Jean sat down at the dinner table to eat.

“Oh? What about?” She asked, acting as innocent as new fallen snow, and handing Devil a morsal of food from her plate, and hoped like hell her pussy didn’t swallow the chair she was sitting in.

“Well how about the gigantic new house pet for one?”

“You mean little Devil here,” she replied.

“Little? He’s almost the size of a small horse, Jean.”

“Oh, so you do remember my name then,” she spat back, “I mean it’s been months since I’ve heard you say it, and I’m sure the post man hasn’t been hiding any of my mail in the neighbor’s mail boxes.”

“We were on manuevers with the Navy Jean, I couldn’t get any messages out. I’m sorry, but I told you that happens sometimes.”

“Yeah, right,” Jean murmured beginning to eat at last.

Harold was devestated. Jean, or the Jean he’d married was no where in sight. He still loved her dearly, but he had no idea how to reach her now, and so he did the only thing left to him.

“Why?” Harold barely whispered, but he knew she heard and understood as she suddenly froze in place.

“Why am I a whore, or why do I fuck Niggers and dogs?” She returned tartly.

“Damn it Jean! You know what I mean! Why!” Harold cried out, getting a growl for his efforts, he managed to contain his furry after that. “Why won’t you look at me, and tell me you hate me, or something! Anything, but this silent treatment.”

“I don’t hate you,” Jean replied, “I just don’t feel that there’s anything to talk about. You deserted me, for six long months you left me here to fend for myself all alone. If you don’t like what you found when you returned, then whose fault is that?”

It was worse than a slap in the face the way she said it, and if Harold was any more guilt ridden than he’d been before dinner, he would have shot himself in the balls right then.

“What do you want?” Harold asked at last, then added, “A divorce?”

“No, but what I do want from now on is a cuckold for a husband. One that knows where to put his mouth, and when to put it there. But if you’re lacking that much courage, I’d say you could have your fucking divorce, and good ridance to you. I love you, but I’m not about to lie, or start making excuses for my actions. If you want to live with me then you’ll do everything Byron tells you to do. That’s all I have to say, for now. Come Devil, I feel a horney coming on,” and she got up from the table and marched off with the Great Dane sniffing in her wake.

Harold couldn’t help getting a hardon seeing her hips swiveling in that modest wool skirt she was wearing, and he could swear those hips never swiveled like that before. He’d been gone six long months from home, and here his wife was going upstairs to their bed to have sex with a dog instead of with him. Or was she inviting Harold to join them?

“Duh,” he said to himself, then pushed away from the table, and crept his way upstairs only a minute behind his wife, and her cannine lover, since there was only one way to find out.

The door to their bedroom was wide open, but Harold approached it with caution just the same. This could be a test of some sort, and he didn’t want to blow it. When he got to the door frame, he took several breaths to steady his reserve for what he hoped, and dreaded to see, then took a peek around the corner, and nearly gasped out loud at what he saw.

Jean was laying on her back so that her butt was at the foot of the bed. Her medium length skirt was pulled up and bunched at her torso exposing her lower belly, crotch, and thighs. Her legs were spread wide, knees apart, with her feet on the floor with the huge black Great Dane in between them wagging his tail as he licked at her split like a thirsty pup. Jean’s white blouse was pulled out and open, her hands fondling her tits sensuously, her bra laying on the floor next to her cast off matching panties in a puddle of silk, and she had this pained look of absolute pleasure masking her angelic features.

“Mmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmm,” Jean moaned in utter contentment as the animal goveled in her love pit, and Harold was instantly hard, and jealous as a snake.

That should be me, Harold thought, not some fucking dog. He knew just how wonderful that pussy tasted, and smelled when Jean was hot as a firecracker, like honey poured over a salt lick. He wanted to go in there and chase the dog off, and take its place of honor, but more than anything else, he admited to himself, he wanted to see Jean fucked by another cock than his own. He’d never told her that, of course, but it had always been a favorite fantasy of his nevertheless, and seeing her as he had when he’d walked in on her, Byron, and the dog was almost as perfect an idea of his ultimate fantasy as he could have ever proposed to her himself. Sure, it had made him instantly jealous, but it had also made his dick rock hard instantly. Just like it was right now. In fact he’d spent many a night aboard ship thinking about Jean in the most insane situations with other men’s cocks fucking her cultured ass senseless one after the other as he masterbated to the lurid lecherous dillusions, just because Jean was so cultured and refined. After all, it had taken him years to get her to consent to marrying him, and popping her cherry on their honeymoon had been almost anti-climactic in the absurd as she’d barely moved the whole time. Byron had been right. All men want their wives to be whores in bed, and Jean just wouldn’t let herself be one, not even in her own marriage bed. At least not until now.

Seeing Jean’s hips hump up at the dog, giving herself to his tongue in tight circles as the animal gourged himself on that santiny, syrupy pussy, like some biker babe pulling a train, was just pure poetry in motion to Harold Davis now, and he damn near ripped his pants getting his prick out to jack off as he watched. Jean’s eyes looked glazed as she looked towards Harold and caught him jerking off out in the hallway as he watched her and the dog, and she smiled so wickedly Harold almost lost his nut right then, squeezing his stiffy to stem the tidal floods.

Harold was glad he had held back because that’s when the Great Dane hopped up on the bed with his front paws landing on either side of Jeans slim waist, the dog’s hind legs walking forward with its incredibly large, skinned, blood red poker leading the way. Closer and closer that slab of hard red meat moved towards Jean’s waiting wet slit until it at last touched, and slid the full length of her opening rubbing its entire length along her clit, making Jean moan uncontrolably.

“Oooooooooooooohhhh,” and as Harold watched in absolute awe, his wife reached down with both hands, grabbed that savage slippery grotesqueness in her right hand, parted her pretty pink petaled lower lips with her left, and guided that awesome home wreaker right to the gates of Harold’s favorite snatch in all the world.

Jean then once again looked straight at Harold, and lifted her legs up over the dogs broad back, and now with the animal’s cock in positon, Jean literally pulled the dog into her, and humped her ass upward at the same time with her legs. Smiling the whole time right at Harold as that dog’s gruesome cannine cock slid right into her human pussy like it was slicing into warm butter.

“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Jean groaned, in that way that Harold knew she was going through an orgasm, and his own prick jumped in his hand like a live firehose spraying his scum out against the framing of the door with such force that it weakened his knees, and made standing up a real effort now.

The dog however seemed to have more control over himself, and once his dick was in Jean, he started fucking her. Missionary style isn’t something that comes natural for dogs, so that may be why Devil wasn’t fucking her any faster than say a man might, due to the unfamiliarness, and that made the fucking all that much more pleasureable, and drawn out in this case for both Jean, and Harold staring on nearby. Harold even thought how much more perverse it seemed that the dog was fucking his wife in that position, like a man would, than if it were a man fucking her doggy style. His dick still hard as he watched a true cocksman take from his wife what was rightfully Harold’s by law, and he couldn’t help jerking off again as he watched in facination.

“Oooooooh, oh yes, baby!” Jean moaned under the slow pounding of the dog over her, even raising her arms up over his back, and opening her mouth to take in the dog’s tongue for a foul French kiss. “Fuck me boy! Fuck me good! My husband is watching, and I know now he loves what he sees. Oh, uhn, yes, that’s it! Fuck me! Fuck your nasty bitch!”

Harold couldn’t believe his ears. Jean had never so much as uttered the word shit under pressure, let alone these profanities she was calling out now, and it only made his act of voyurism that much more exciting. Truly, Jean had changed, right before Harold’s eyes, into any man’s idea of what a perfect whore was now, and it suddenly occured to Harold that maybe this wasn’t such a bad set up after all. So what if his wife fucked Niggers and dogs, or if she blew pigs for that matter. Wasn’t that what he’d wanted with her from the very beginning? To see the look plastered on her face right this moment, see her humping up at her lover like a sleazy sex crazed nympo whore the way she was right now. So totally out of control that fucking a dog was just as natural to her as fucking a man, just for the sheer pleasure of fucking.

Okay, so being a cuckold meant he’d have to share her, and under someone elses terms, but so what? He’d be able to have his pussy now, and eat it too, wouldn’t he? And he wouldn’t have to worry so much about her now when he was gone, sailing the oceans, and fucking his whores around the world, now would he. No. This was the best of what he could ever have hoped for, and had never dared ask for. Harold made up his mind right then, and there, that he was going to be the best cuckold his wife could ever want from that point on. He loved her too much to lose her to his own stupidity, he only hoped now that she would forgive him for being such a bore in the past as he watched that dog cock pump his wife with machine precision strokes, stretching her pussy like it was a fist punching her slit into a big round hole. Now he understood why the black man had been fucking Jean in the asshole when he’d arrived home. She must have already been fucked by the beast before she sucked the dog’s cock, making her pussy uselessly warped out so that even Byron’s big dick couldn’t feel her when he fucked her there. And it was just that thought that brought Harold to his second premature ejaculation, as the Great Dane continued fucking Jean.

“That’s it stud! Show my husband how its done!” Jean laughed staring at Harold’s useless spurting prick.

As a sailor of the world, Harold had seen a lot of things done by women for very little money in his carreer at sea. He’d even seen a woman get fucked by a goat on stage in some back alley bar in Madigascar once, but none of the women had been his own wife, and none of them had seemed to enjoy, really enjoy whoring as much as his own wife seemed to at that very moment with that damn dog’s prick knoted up, and pumping in, and out of her pussy like a crazed diesel piston.

“Oh, uhn, yes, faster baby! You make me cum so goooooooooooooooooooooooooood! Even better than my husband!”

Harold figured he had that coming to him, that and so much more as he gawked while his Jean came over and over again, her body shivering, twisting, and bucking under that stud dog, and crying out her bliss when she wasn’t swapping tonuge with the bastard fucking her. He had no right to complain though, and he knew it now.

“He’s cuming in me Harold!” Jean announced suddenly, as if announcing an olympic gold medalist. “A dog is cuming in my cunt, honey! Ah, uhn, oh yeah, and I’m cuming with him tooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

Harold, like a man in a trance couldn’t help himself, he moved into the room, getting closer, and closer to where the real action was. His dick still in hand, his own cum dangling in stringy slimy short ropes dripping from his fist, and the end of his prick as he walked, falling to the carpet at his feet. When he got close enough, Harold could see what looked like a small spring bubbling out around the dog and his wife’s connection to the bedspread via the crack of Jean’s ass, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop any time soon either.

“Well don’t just stand there,” Jean said arrogantly, “get in there and lick it all up before it soaks through to the mattress. I don’t sleep in the wet spot anymore.”

************

“Oh shit!” Betty said across the coffee table from Jean at her house. “What happened then?”

“Well he dove down so fast,” Jean said finishing the story, “that he freaked poor Devil out of my pussy with an awful painful plopping sound as the dog must have thought Harold was going to bite him, and dog cum flew in every direction at once including Harold’s face blinding him. By that time Devil was clear, and turned around with teeth bared to attack, and he would have if I hadn’t called him out right then. By then Harold had cleared his eyes, and saw where the dog’s mouth was, and he fainted.”

“Where were the dog’s teeth?” Dave asked.

“Devil must have thought Harold was going for his cock and balls, because he was about to rip into Harold’s, and bite them right off.”

That had everyone laughing there except Harold, of course. But he took it good naturedly since Betty had told him about the day Dave became a cuckold husband first. After all, if Dave, who obviously wasn’t a homosexual by any meaning of the word, could suck a black man’s cock clean after it had just fucked his wife, Betty’s cunt, to seven massive orgasms, and not blink, then Harold could take the two women’s playful ribbing too.

“So did he ever clean up your pussy?” Betty asked.

“Once he revived, I straddled his face,” Jean replied, “and Harold went ape shit, licking me out like my pussy was the fountain of youth.”

“Yeah, and after that dog pulled out of her pussy like that,” Harold added, “her pussy was almost as big as a fountain too.”

That statement broke up everybody, including Jean whose poor abused cunt felt so big right then she was afraid to sit on anything less than the Simmon’s couch for fear that her cunt would swallow it up as she sat down. An exageration to be sure, as even now her vagina was slowly returning to its normal elastic state, but to Jean it still felt incredibly stretched out, as never before.

“Don’t fret Jean,” Betty said seeing her discomfort, “I was once at a gang bang where no less than two men fist fucked me in both my ass and pussy at the same time. Felt like I’d been humped by a whale for two days afterwards, but my pussy shrank back up to normal again, and yours will too.”

“Wow! What was that like?” Jean asked in amazement.

“Like giving birth to the world’s biggest turd,” Betty giggled, making them all laugh.

The pounding at the front door silenced everyone immediately.

“That must be Darrel,” Betty said, “just remember, you two,” and she pointed to Harold and Jean, “act like you’re invisible. You’re just to watch, not participate.”

Harold and Jean nodded in understanding. Byron had called them at Betty’s an hour ago explaining that Betty’s black lover would be coming over, and that they were to stay out of his way, but observe how both Dave and his wife reacted to Darrel, and be prepared to follow suit around Byron from this point on. Jean was all for it, and though Harold was reluctant at best, he agreed. Everyone got up then, and followed Betty into the front room, and Betty shed the white terrycloth robe she was wearing, draping it over the back of the couch on the way to the front door.

Both Jean and Harold gasped at what Betty had been wearing under that robe of hers, and was now openly approaching the door in. They’d noticed the stilleto high heeled patten leather boots that laced up to her ankles, and the sheer seamed black nylon stockings below the robe, but they hadn’t seen until now, that Betty was wearing a black latex garterbelt, matching crotchless panties, and peek-a-boo bra combination that set offer her hour glass proportions extremely well, making her hips seem wider, her waist thinner, and her boobs massive. Betty’s mane of glittering red tresses were braided all the way down to her butt crack, which showed clearly above the black latex panties cut the way they were. And then Betty opened the front door.

“About fucking time, ain’t it bitch!?” Darrel said almost charging in through the front door once she’d opened it, “It’s a damn good thing we live in Florida, or I’d of frozen my ass off out there waiting for your sorry white ass to let me in, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes Master,” Betty replied, her head down so as not to meet her master’s eyes directly. She was after all his personal property, and nothing more.

“I see needle dick is here too, eh,” and Darrel pointed towards Dave, “just make sure he don’t get in my way, or I’ll knock him up side the head,” the warning was directed at Dave, but everyone knew that it was meant for the visiting neighbors, Jean, and Harold.

“Yes Master,” Betty repeated respectfully subservient, then going down on her knees in front of Darrel she unzipped his pants, then reached in and hauled out what had to be more than a foot of thick flacid black prick. Letting everyone there see what a real cock was all about before hefting the massive piece of black meat up in both of her hands to her parting lips, and taking it into her delicate white mouth to begin sucking on it.

Harold was instantly hard as a rock, and he felt Jean squeeze his right hand in her left to let him know that her pussy was already drooling just seeing that black mamba.

“Just hold still for a minute, bitch,” Darrel commanded, “I gotta pee first.”

Not that Darrel had any intention of using the bathroom, not when he had a perfectly good married white slut’s mouth right there at hand, and Betty pulled back just a bit, opened her mouth wide like a recently hatched hungry young bird at feeding time, and as everyone stared in awe, Darrel let loose his bladder, and simply pissed down into Betty’s open mouth.

Jean nearly put a strangle hold on Harold’s right hand after that, and wouldn’t ease up the entire time Darrel was there. After pissing in Betty’s mouth, Darrel ordered Dave to come over and kiss his wife, which Dave did, and in the process ended up drinking the piss from Betty’s mouth before being pushed away to the side where they could all see him swallowing Darrel’s pee as well.

“Good whimp,” Darrel commented, “at least you’re good for something around here, because you sure ain’t worth a tinker’s damn for fucking this fine white bitch with that little limp weenie of yours.

It went like that the whole evening. First Darrel would do something with Betty, say like fucking her bent over the back of a chair doggy fashion, and then he’d make Dave come over and either lick Betty’s pussy, ass, tits, or face clean afterwards, or even have Dave lick his dick clean, or suck him hard to fuck Betty some more. The whole idea being to include both spouces in the sex rodeo, and elevate Betty only slightly higher as a whore than her cocksucking cuckold of a husband at any given time in their sexual marathon. What was surprising to Harold was just how overbearing Betty could get with her husband Dave after being used by Darrel as a plaything herself, and it was obvious to all concerned that the couple really enjoyed this arrangement immensely, especially Betty, of course, since she was knocked up with this Nigger’s baby.

The evening ended when Darrel, having already shot his latest wade all over Betty’s big boobs, making her lotion the mess into her breasts, then he suddenly turned and squatted over her chest and took a horrendous shit, after which he demanded that Dave fuck his wife right there and then missionary fashion with the shit between them. The married couple were still going at it as Darrel walked out the front door laughing his ass off.

If Harold had wanted to fuck Betty before then, he stopped thinking about it so much after that. Sure, the woman was an absolute knock out, built like the proverbial brick shit house, but he was a man after pussy, and had little need for a shit on brick house. Jean however was another story altogether. She needed a tampax to soak up all the juices from her pussy after that calculated debauchery, even letting Harold fuck her in the ass for the very first time when they got home so that she could have him lick her filthy butt clean afterwards. Strangely enough, Harold didn’t mind eating his wife’s ass out after just having fucked it, or not nearly enough to complain, at least. Not with Devil standing near by just waiting to rip his nuts off if he did.

Intermission:

Byron arrived about 1pm the next afternoon, and without any warning announced that they were all going shoping for Jean’s new work clothes. Harold had to sit in the back seat as Jean needed plenty of room to suck Byron’s black dick while the man drove them to the mall, and announced his plans for Jean to work for him as his new secratary in his office.

“Which will include,” Byron explained, “several after hours responcibilities on her part that require a nearly whole new wardrobe. The money for the clothes will come out of her pay, of course, but any bonuses she incures, like tips, when working after hours are all hers, and that’s where Jean could really make the bucks, by entertaining my perspective customers. Mostly other black business men, either in their hotel rooms, or at her own home if she’s so inclined.” And everyone in the car knew what that would entail. “The clothes we’ll purchase today, are for wearing under her conservative work clothes behind her desk in my office, and of course her ensambles for, shall we say, escort duties after hours. You’re along Harold to carry all the packages, and nothing more.”

They visited every ladies wear shop in the mall that afternoon, and Harold figured they’d spent about five grand by the time they returned to Byron’s car with everything he could carry, and another five grand worth to be delivered at their home later, as they drove for home. The only embarrassing moment for Harold being when Jean tried out the clothes in the stores for Byron’s personal inspection, and Harold got several strange looks from the sales reps, and one wicked smile. However Harold had to give Byron his due, the man knew clothes, and he knew what looked classy, as well as trashy, and bought both for different occasions, certain of his customer’s lecherous preferances. Still, nothing looked bad on Jean, she made the clothes he bought, even the trashiest undergarments with her tits hanging out, looked great on her.

To show her appreciation of Byron’s taking the time to go with her to the mall, Jean sucked his dick to two more cums on the way home, finishing up the last one as they pulled into their driveway. They dropped Harold off at the house then before going to Byron’s office so Jean could get settled in for her first official day of work this up coming Monday, and take care of an errand Byron said he had to make. Thankfully, this trip, they took Devil with them.

Harold was just sitting down to eat the bowl of chili he’d made for himself for supper when he heard a car door shut outside, and then the lights from the car passed over the curtained front windows as it pulled out of the driveway silhoueting his Jean waving good-bye, her back to the window, but for some reason looking naked to Harold, though he dismissed that out of hand as he got up to go open the door for her.

“Holy shit! Get in here Jean!” Harold cried out after opening the door to find his wife really was naked, or nearly so, since all she had on was a pair of bright scarlet colored crotchless panties, the rest of her clothes drapped over her left forarm casually with drying cum crusted all over her face neck and chest as she entered their home with Devil right behind. “What the hell?”

“I had to entertain a couple of Byron’s business partners,” Jean answered by way of an explanation for her disheveled state.

“That I believe,” Harold grouched, “but what has me confused is that,” and he pointed to the gold ring now attached to her clitty.

“Oh that,” Jean waved it off as if it were nothing, “that’s my whoring ring. You know, like if you get married you have a ring placed on your left ring finger. Well, Byron thought it only appropriate that I have a matching diamond ring pierced into my clit to show that I’m his whore. I think it’s a wonderful idea, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah, just super,” Harold replied, remembering to keep his voice low with Devil around, “what’s next? A dog bone in your nose?”

“If he insists? Yes. After all, he is my pimp master now, and we have to do what he pleases. I thought you understood that.”

“I thought I did too,” Harold mumbled, not at all a happy camper.

“Then I guess you won’t like the next bit of news either,” Jean said.

“Probably not,” Harold agreed, and sat down to try to eat the rest of his chili before it got cold.

“Byron is thinking of having my nipples and belly button pierced as well, so that he can string a teeny gold chain through all of my most sensitive parts. Of course he hasn’t decided as yet, between that and getting my butt tattooed, but I think he’ll tell us by next weekend.”

“What’s the tattoo supposed to be?”

“Nothing gawdy, just a meat stamp kinda thing with an NW in the center standing for Nigger’s Whore.”

Harold almost choked hearing that.

“He’s thinking it will look great by the dimple on my right ass cheek when I wear my thongs. What do you think?”

“I think…” and he almost stopped himself from saying it, but he couldn’t, “I think you are a Nigger loving whore, Jean.”

“I’m so glad you finally approve,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek, and turning to go upstairs for a nice long bubble bath.

“That wasn’t the voice of approval,” but Harold was only talking to the air by that time, and his chili had gone cold.

Pushing the bowl away, Harold got up, and went out to the patio to look out at the moon lit lake. It was quiet out here. Only nature’s song as the night creatures chirped, burped, or callowed at each other. Most of his neighbors were far enough distant from his house as to afford Harold and Jean a modicum of privacy even in daylight, but much more so at night. The closest being the Simmons, and they were around the hillock separating the two houses that created a private cove to his beach. He heard a couple of fish jumping out in the shallows by the reeds, and figured it was probably the large mouth bass that had illuded him all last year, only to return now and laugh at the man who had absolutely no control over his former bride, Harold guessed, as he walked down to the edge of the water.

“You’ll get use to it,” said a voice nearby. A very sultry, familiar voice whose tight curved body soon came out of shadow to join Harold at the water’s edge wearing a red silky thong stringed bikini. “It just takes time is all, and plenty of nerve.”

“How long did it take Dave?” Harold asked her.

“About a flat five seconds, I think,” Betty giggled, “in my case it was I who had a hard time coming to terms with this. I was brought up a Chatholic, and good girls just didn’t do the kind of things Dave expected me to do after marrying him.”

“Yeah huh,” Harold agreed, knowing just what she meant.

“The thing is, Dave never understood that he was all I ever wanted back then.”

“And now?” Harold asked, he had to find out. It was too important to him not to know.

“Now?” Betty hessitated for a moment, then sighing, “now I don’t know how I ever went without. You see, having nothing, you don’t expect much, but once you have it, then everything changes. You want it all, and you can’t help yourself for the wanting. Does that make sense?”

“I’m afraid it does, and in a warped and twisted kind of way I can really see Jean’s side of this. It just hurts, damn it!”

Betty came over to him then and as she came in close hugging Harold he could smell the freshness of the lake on her, feel the heat of her bossom as it mashed up against him, and the fire below in her pit called to him. If you asked him an hour later how they became locked in a kiss of raw passion that blew his mind away, ending up with them wrestling in the sand naked, intertwined, and fucking in the gritty crystals like two lost souls, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you. But when they parted there, each going to their own shadows Harold knew a peace he hadn’t known since having gone to sea six monthes earlier, and a whole new outlook on whores in general.

It was time to grow up, Harold thought, and stop living in the past. What’s done is done, and he couldn’t change it now. But what he could change was his attitude. Either that or run off to sea forever leaving the best piece of ass he’d ever had to someone else entirely. Harold decided then that it was time to change the rules, and join in on the fun or be left behind moping, and he wasn’t much of a man for soft soaping his way through life. Nobody said that all cuckolds had to be like Dave. After all, Harold wasn’t Dave, which when he thought about it, was a great relief in itself. Harold left his clothes where they were, scattered on the beach, and headed for the bubble bath already in progress, only stopping in the kitchen briefly for two glasses, a bottle of champagne, and a nice thick steak.

“If I’m married to a whore, then I might as well treat her like a lady,” he said to the stars who winked back at him in return, “as the old pimp’s adage goes; “If you treat a whore like a lady, she’ll be your lover all her life.”

“Wow! What’s come over you Harold?” Jean asked, trying to catch her breath after cuming non stop for an hour in a bubble bath gone luke warm.

“You have,” Harold said, lifting Jean out of the bath, then setting her down and toweling her dry. “It suddenly occured to me that you are still my wife, and just how much I truely love you, and have taken you for granted, Jean. I’ll make it up to you no matter what it takes, and if you want other lovers on the side, then that’s your right. Just know this. When you come home, I’ll be here waiting for you when I’m not at sea, and when I’m at sea from now on, it won’t be for six months at a time anymore. I’ll see to it that I’m not gone for more than three months from now on, or shorter if at all possible. I can’t be like Dave next door, but I’ll be your cuckold for life, if you’ll still have me.”

Jean kissed him then, like the Jean of old mixed in with the new, the lady he knew, and the whore he’d helped to create. Her warm flesh tight up against his, a fluid in motion, tender, and searching, gentle, but demanding. He lifted her up again, and this time he didin’t put her down until they reached their bed, and when he placed her there he went with her easing himself in between her welcoming open thighs, and they made love all over again. This time though, when Devil joined them on the bed, they both welcomed the dog to partake of Jean’s favors.

By midnight they were snuggled spoon fashion, with Devil laying on the bed at there feet licking his cock clean, and basking in the after glow.

“Byron’s coming over with a couple of his friends tomorrow,” Jean announced.

“I’ll go to the store in the morning then, and we can have a barbeque for your guests,” Harold replied, and kissed her bare left shoulder at the nap of her neck. “Did he mention how many, or what they drink?”

“I’m not sure, but I think he said three, I can check when I get up in the morning and ask him about the refreshments as well.”

“That was a test, wasn’t it?” Harold asked.

“Do you forgive me?” Jean whispered.

“Yes,” Harold replied, and hugging her, slipped his hardening prick into Jean from behind to prove it, adding, “always.”

************

As it turned out there were five black men in all, including Byron, and they arrived around three the next afternoon. Byron was tickled to death that Harold had come around, though not quite sure how to handle Harold’s independance of the situation. However since Harold wasn’t a whimp, by any means that he could see, Byron decided to go with the flow. After all, Jean was still his whore, even if she was Harold’s wife, and that was all that counted as far as Byron was concerned. The barbeque idea went over big with Byron’s clients, as did Jean’s availability, and Byron would decide by the end of the day that he liked this approach of Harold’s to being a cuckold much better than the way Dave and many other men went about it. His clients certainly seemed to like it.

“Just make yourselves comfortable gentlemen,” Harold said after being introduced to the four men, “I’ll have your steaks ready when you are, and Jean will see to your drinks, and if there’s anything else you might require just ask for it.”

“How about a nice slow comfortable screw?” Asked the one called Johnny D., a former linebacker with the Dallas Cowboys who owned his own software company, and he wasn’t talking about the cocktail drink, as he gently pulled Jean’s white bikini clad frame tight to his six foot tower of bulging black muscles for a long lasting tongue dueling kiss while he fonled and squeezed her white pliant flesh in his large black hands in front of everyone.

“I think that can be arranged,” Jean said nearly breathless after their kiss broke, and her bikini wasn’t hiding anything anymore. Then turning to leave with Johnny for the bedroom said, “the drinks are in the fridge guys, and the game is on the television, help yourselves.”

It went like that all evening, as one by one, and sometimes in groups of twos and threes, the four men took turns fucking Jean in her marriage bed, while those waiting or recuperating sat around and bull shited with Harold or Byron, or simply relaxed in the front room to watch the sports channels on TV. Only interrupted occasionaly by Jeans screams announcing the latest orgasm she was going through, or Devil and Byron being called up there to join in. Harold served them their steaks the way they liked them when they asked for them, and the whole event went pretty much like any normal barbeque would, save for Jean’s part in it, of course, and Harold stayed pretty much clear of that aspect of it, though he did become good friends with the Great Dane during the day.

“I had a wonderful time,” Byron said, just before he and his friends departed, handing over an envelope marked Tips on the outside, “and I look forward to doing this again.”

“Any time,” Harold said shaking the man’s hand frimly.

“Of course you can’t have a barbeque for every occasion,” Byron whispered, “but I look forward to seeing what you’ll come up with in the future, and I’m sure it will all work out now.”

Harold waved good-bye, then went up the stairs to rejoin his wife as she stepped out of the shower, and grabbing a towel dried her off. Her pussy looked raw as a clam, and was still leaking cum, but she looked otherwise refreshed.

“Company’s all gone,” Harold said, “and I can put our steaks on whenever you’re ready to eat, and we can sit down then and have supper while you tell me how your day went. Oh, and here’s the envelope with your tip money, Byron gave it to me just before they left.”

Jean opened the sealed white envelope, and looked inside. “Holy shit! There’s four crisp thousand dollar bills in here!”

“Yeah, Byron said those fellows had a great time,” Harold said with a playful smirk, “and each one signed a new contract with his firm too.”

“I’m going to start a new bank account right away,” Jean bubbled, “and maybe in a year or three we can afford our own ship, or boat, or whatever, and you won’t have to go to sea without me anymore.”

“Sounds like a winner to me,” Harold said, and pulled her in tight for a loving embrace as Devil click clacked in, and started licking at the tears running down Jean’s inner thighs, “Oh, and I bought Devil from Byron by the way. He’s all ours now.”

Jean didn’t know what to say to that, but she knew how to express herself now in other, much more pleasureable ways, and soon had her husbands rising ten inches sliding in and out between her lips, bent over, and squating open legged so that Devil could lick her clean from behind to his hearts content as she blew her husband’s cock.

Part III:

Byron picked Jean up promptly at seven Monday morning, the last Harold saw of Jean as they pulled out of the driveway was her head lowering down towards the blackman’s lap.

“Now that’s the way to start a work day,” Harold said, shaking his head and smiling to himself as he turned and went inside to take care of the breakfast dishes, straighten up the house a little, and go online with his computer for awhile.

Harold was fixing himself and Devil some lunch when there was a knock at the back sliding glass door, and saw Betty waiting there through the window.

“What do ya think, boy?” He asked the dog, and when Devil wagged his tail, Harold went and let the red head in.

“Hi,” Betty said, that sultry voice of hers always pleasant to the senses coming from her perfectly makeuped face, “I came over to see if I could borrow a couple of cups of throbbing male meat,” and she enfolded Harold in her soft curves like a lava flow over taking a once thriving city.

The robe Betty was wearing, a knee length cotton maroon colored terry cloth afair, soon fell puddling at her feet there in the doorway as they kissed and hugged passionately, leaving her dressed in a bright red satin garterbelt, a matching quarter cup bra that left her nipples exposed, and crotchless panties, with black fishnet stockings, and lipstick red patten leather high heeled pumps that took Harold’s breath away at first glance.

“I know it’s rather slutty attire for this early in the morning…” Betty started to say once they broke from their kiss.

“No, not at all,” Harold interrupted, “in fact its you to a T.”

“Meaning?”

“You make my dick salivate,” Harold replied, making them both laugh.

“Well, I hope you won’t be mad at me, but Byron called, and said that he and Jean had to go out of town on some business, and asked me to come over and take good care of you while they were away. I told him that I’d love to, but he’d have to clear it with Darrel, and when Darrel called me he told me to wear this outfit when I came over.”

“Looks like I owe Darrel one,” Harold smirked.

“No way! This one is on Byron’s American Express business card.”

“What’s Dave think of this?”

“He’s Dave, which pretty much says it all for that whimp husband of mine. But I think he’s secretly envious of you just the same.”

“Good,” Harold said, seeing Dave hiding in the bushes trying to stay out of sight, “then let’s not let everyone down except Dave shall we,” and taking her left hand in his right one, he led Betty up the stares to the guest room with Devil close behind at their heels. The master bedroom was Jean’s domain, and as far as Harold was concerned it was going to stay that way.

Once in the guest bedroom Harold closed and locked the door from the inside, then closed the window shutters, and pulled the curtains closed tight as well.

“You’re going to break poor Dave’s voyuristic heart,” Betty commented, but grinned evilly just the same. Then moved into Harold’s waiting, wide open arm’s to take up where they’d left off the night before.

“I don’t look good on camera Betty,” Harold retorted, “even if you do,” and he kissed the red headed whore savagely, and squeezed her ass cheeks, bruttally pulling her into him. If she was being paid to whore for him, he would treat her like the whore she deserved to be treated like, and he literally mauled her tits, leaving sucker bits everywhere he went.

“Ooooooooooh, ooooooooh yeah baby!” Betty gasped. That’s it! Bite my titties! I want it rough today!

Harold grabbed her long braided hair then, and yanked, using the braid like a lead rope on a racing mare, and brought the whore to her knees.

“Suck it bitch!” He commanded. “I want you on your hands and knees, so that Devil can enjoy that nasty body of yours too!” And once she was in positon, sucking on his cock, “Go ahead boy, lick your bitch, that’s what she’s here for! It’s what’s she gets paid for doing!”

Far from being insulted, Betty couldn’t have agreed more, and she wagged her ass making her big natural titties swing and sway sideways and in small circles lewdly as she swallowed Harold’s ten thick inches right to the root hairs in delighted rapture.

“See boy, I told you! She’s begging for it! There ya go! Eat that nasty slut’s cunt sloppy, and we’ll both fuck the bitch good!” And holding onto the braid of red flaming hair closer to the root Harold rammed his prick down the cocksucker’s throat repeatedly. Effectively jerking himself off using her mouth as the Great Dane licked the whore’s entire crack from behind.

Harold was amazed that less than five minutes later Betty was cuming with her first orgasm after being treated so roughly by them. She either liked this kind of treatment when in her whore mode, or was very use to it by now.

“That’s it you shit dump bitch! Cum! Cum like the fucking low life Nigger fucking whore you are! I’ll bet you’d make ole Dave proud if the kinky bastard could see you now, eh!” Then, before she could make him cum too, he yanked her head off of his prick by that flaming red braid, and whirled her around to face Devil, “okay, now suck off my dog! He sucked you, right!”

Betty didn’t even hessitate. It was as if she lived just for these obscenely perverted moments, and ducked her head under the belly of the Great Dane, took his gastly cannine cock in her mouth and started to suck the dog off the way she’d just sucked Harold’s prick. In fact it seemed that she sucked the dog’s cock with more enthusiasm than she had with Harold’s.

“Yeah, I see you like it raunchy! Don’t you bitch!” And when she nodded, Harold knew he could do anything with Betty then, short of murder, and maiming. “Good! Becasue I’ve just been dying to shove my big dick into that hot, and nasty tight ass of yours!” And only just spitting down on his dick, and her corn nugget, Harold aimed his dick at that teeny little winking hole, and suddenly jammed every inch of cock he had roughly up Betty’s bouncing rear bumper.

Betty screamed around the cannine cock fucking her mouth now, but with Devil mounted onto her shoulders, and his front legs wrapped tight around her neck it came out more like a muffled moan of extasy than a scream of pain. Her bucking ass waving as if she was begging for more abuse.

“Yeah! You like that do ya!” Harold cried, and spanking her fine tight round ass gave her several long hard thrusts in a row, knowing full well that it had to hurt something awful, but also knowing that it felt good to finally lash out at something, or someone at least, for what had happened to his own wife, and he started spanking her ass with his open hand continuously after every cruel statement of his as well, “Yeah, give it to the fucking whore Devil! Make her choke on that fucking dog dick! The bitch loves it, and she certainly deserves getting it this way!”

In no time the two males had Betty rocking back and forth between their battering hard pricks. Her ass cheeks jiggling as Harold’s abs slapped hard up against them burying his prick deep in her colon, had her massive tit meat swaying and bouncing on her chest like some cow’s udders when they run from a horny bull. Betty came then a second time, and then a third time, and a fourth as her tortured body was yanked and pulled by the two males using her flesh to slake their unnatural passions. Harold’s hands reaching around to tug, and pinch at her nipples when he wasn’t spanking her ass to a rosey red hue.

She couldn’t help herself, not after Darrel’s thorough training regiment. Since turning her into his married white whore, and knocking her up with his black bastard she had become the very thing her husband had desired of her, and she’d found out that she loved it there in the sleaze “O” zone. Even the pain she went through at times like this gave her such intense pleasure that had been unfathomable only two years ago when she turned 19, and the worse she was treated, the more intense her orgasms became, making her want more like a junky on dope. And still, like the night before, she could cum with just as gentle a touch, under the right circumstances as well. Yes, Dave could be proud of what he’d created in this sultry young bride of his, even if he wasn’t here to see the results in action, as Harold suddenly gave her a piss enema that came so utterly by surprise burning the friction raw lining of her intestines that Betty’s mind went atomic with the most intense orgasm of her life to that very moment, and just as Devil rewarded her with a blast in the mouth of his own cum at her other end.

“That’s it Devil! Hose the filthy little cocksucking bitch’s mouth full of doggy scum! She loves that almost as much as the piss enema I’m giving her at this end! And just think, if she spills any of the goodies, we can make the bitch clean it all up with her fucking mouth and tongue, then start all over again by swapping ends! Maybe later we can take turns shitting in her mouth and making her eat our stinking turds, and lick our filthy assholes clean! How about that, boy?!”

When Devil barked in responce, Betty lost it completely, her mind swearing to her that the dog knew, and even agreed with the man sharing her about the next turn of events on their schedule, about a task so foul it blew her mind away, and she passed out cold.

************

Jean’s whole day had been one exciting moment after another. They barely arrived at Byron’s office with her wiping his cum from her lips with her tongue, when they charged into the new, and to become routine, daily work load. Jean hadn’t expected to do any real work once there, supposing that she’d be more of a fixture painting her nails behind a desk sort of thing until called into Byron’s office to spread her legs, or go down on her knees whenever he wanted, but that wasn’t the case at all, and as she quickly learned, Byron expected her to be a real secretary in every sense of the word. Thankfully, she could type, and knew how to use a computer, and that made her transition go a lot smoother as she got organized. By noon she knew the file system and how it worked, and where the hard copy files were stored, and how to find what she needed in them if it came to that, and was fielding every call that came into Byron’s office with cool and calculating precision before getting ready to go out for lunch.

“No time for lunch,” Byron said, almost rushing out of his office with his briefcase, and a small over night bag over his shoulder, “we have to catch a flight to Phoenix in less than an hour.”

“But I have no clothes, or anything for such a trip,” Jean said grabbing her purse and running to catch up with Byron, “and I have to phone Harold to tell him.”

“I’ll call him from the car phone,” Byron assured her, “and we’ll get you what you need in Phoenix when we get there. Now hurry up, time is money!”

Byron had done better than his word, calling Betty, then Darrel to, as he put it, “Take care of Jean’s man while she was away on business.”

The short shopping trip in Phoenix was even better, as she wouldn’t have to repay Byron for these things, but was expected to keep the new attire and personal items in the new over night bag he also purchased, for her there right in the office the way he did. The evening gown alone had cost ten grand, and she was expected to have a rotating wardrobe with a nearby dry cleaners set up as soon as possible after this trip, all at the company’s expense so that she wasn’t always wearing the same clothes on every trip.

They met the client for dinner at his ranch, with Jean in the new evening gown and very little else. A local black rancher who turned out to be a horrible cowboy, but a great deal luckier with the oil found on his property. Roy Rodgers, as his name turned out, had turned the sprawling unworking ranch into a gilded Dude Ranch, and vacation/honeymoon getaway that was doing extremely well, thanks especially to his new French Chef, and other hired help that Roy had rustled from a cruise ship by paying them better, and almost twice their old wages to come work for him. If nothing else, Roy looked the part of a weathered old cowhand at least, long, and lanky bowlegged as any who sat tall in the saddle up on the big screen, and was very liberal with the Tequila sunrise pitcher, keeping Jean’s glass full all through the meal as he talked business over with Byron.

“When your finished eating little lady,” Roy said turning to her, “we can take a walk out to the stables, and I’ll show you my pride and joy. Well, my bestest friend really, since he’s the one who stumbled onto the oil in the first place.”

“Don’t tell me,” Jean said, “his name is Trigger, right?”

“Now see what I mean Byron,” Roy turned his way, “just like I said, she’s smart as a horse whip.”

“I’d love to meet your friend after dinner Mr. Rodgers,” Jean giggled, the booze working its magic in her already.

The moon hung over a large atoll surrounded by the plume of the Milky Way brightening up the otherwise dark desolate landscape for miles around as they walked towards the barn like structure that Roy used for a stable. The chill of night giving Jean’s flesh goose bumps with what little clothing she had on. The nearly sheer white evening gown more like a long silk slip dangling from her breasts, and hardly more covering than the truly sheer white silk panties she wore underneath. However the stable was heated, and she warmed right up once they were inside.

The natural smell of equestrians scented the air, but Jean felt right at home having been around horses most of her life, and she quickly took in the clean and well managed stalls lining each side of the center walk through, each with fresh straw bedding in it, with water and feed for each animal. She also took note that Roy had a fine collection of horses. Mostly Quarterhorses, a couple Arabians, an Appaloosa, and a big Palomino stallion that she walked right up to, and petted.

“Oh no dear,” Roy chuckled, taking her arm, and pulling her along further into the barn, “that isn’t Trigger, that’s Rex. Here’s Trigger,” and when they stopped it was in front of a stall containing a cute slop eyed, long eared, hang faced old burro.

“You named your donkey Trigger?” Jean said, and had to stop herself from laughing before she might offend the older back man.

“Hell no, I didn’t name him that,” Roy laughed for her as she reached out to pet the beast of burden, “the old whore who sold him to me down in Nogales did. Said he was always quick on the trigger, meaning, I guessed, that he always got a hard on up for the donkey show she put on. She hated to sell him, but the local sheriff was running her out of business with his younger sluts. It was Trigger what found, or more correctly, stumble over my first oil well.”

“Trigger had sex with a woman?” Jean asked, almost too startled to believe it.

“Make that women,” Roy said, and rather proudly puffed out his chest at that, “I catch at least one of my female guests in here every week, either trying to fuck him, or suck off one of the stud horses, or ponies in here. The surveylance cameras hidden in here tell quite a story whenever I take time to check out the tapes, and let me tell you, not just a few husbands have helped those women to get that donkey’s dick up their good looking wife’s snatch either.”

“I tell ya Byron,” Roy turned to boast to Jean’s boss, “ole Trigger here can sniff a randy twat within a hundred miles. And…hmmmmmm…by the looks of that extending libido of his growing like an arm under there, he might like someone real close by.”

“I may be horny,” Jean said, then pointing at the donkey’s growing cock added, “but I’d have to be a lot drunker, and a whole lot more lubricated than I am now to try that on for size.”

“Well hell lady, where’s your glass?” Roy replied holding up his bottle of tequila. Then spotting the untended coffee mugs close by, grabbed a clean one, and poured Jean a very healthy slug, and handed it to her.

A quick look at Byron, and Jean knew where she stood, and took the offered drink as Roy poured shots for himself and Byron into two other mugs.

“Okay,” Roy beamed, “now all we need is a little lubrication,” and as Roy helped Jean get out of her evening gown, and hung it up in the tack room for her, Byron gave her a wink and toasted her bravado for the company’s sake, before turning and leaving her alone with Roy.

“Come on in here sweet thang,” Roy called from the tack room, as she finished off her drink, “we got a nice little ole bed in here where old Roy can lube you up good and proper like.”

He was waiting for her sitting naked on the rumpled bed that wasn’t much larger than a good sized twin mattress, but looked small now with Roy’s slab of black meat laying there nearly to his knees on the white sheet waiting for her.

“Hot damn!” Roy said lifting his cup to her in a toast of his own, “I’ve been looking forward to this since I saw that tight ass of yours swishing under that gown in the dinning room little lady. You make those young honeymoon babes look like boys by comparison.”

“And you make Trigger look like a gelding,” Jean replied with a giggle, and rolled her panties down over her hips to let them puddle at her feet.

“Well don’t you worry none hon, cause if you can take this,” and he took hold of his prick about in the middle and wagged it at her like a dead rattler, “then Trigger shouldn’t be any problem for you either.”

“I think you better pour me some more tequila first,” Jean said with a straight face as she climbed onto the bed next to Roy with her coffee cup.

“Damn! I love a woman with guts,” Roy preened, and poured her cup full. Then moved down the bed so that his face was just inches from Jean’s slit, “nice ring,” he commented about the one in her clit, then dove in between her open thighs face, and tongue first.

“Oooooooooooohh Roy! Giddy up!”

************

“You can’t be serious,” Betty gasped, not really believing what she’d heard, “he’s too big to fuck me in the ass. Have you ever seen him when he’s all knotted up?”

“Yeah,” Harold replied, “you should have seen Jean’s cunt when he ripped out of her pussy with it still as big as an orange. Left one hell of a gaping hole between her legs for close to a day, and I have no idea how she managed not to get ripped apart when that happened. But don’t worry, I won’t let that happen while he’s in your butt slut. I’m not that cruel, or inhuman.”

“You could have fooled me today,” Betty mumbled, gettig back up on her hands and knees, her fishnet stockings ripped in several places, her ass a bright red from the constant spankings, matched the red of her soild crotchless panties, and she had several scratches on her sides from Devil’s dew claws raking at her ribs when he fucked her mouth.

“Hey, your getting paid for this, remember,” Harold threw back, “and I just think Byron should get his money’s worth, don’t you? After all, the customer is always right, especially in your profession, right. So you either take the damned dog’s cock up your ass, and stop the fucking complaining, or so help me I’ll tie you up and shit down your fucking throat WHORE!”

There, he’d said it at last, waiting until Betty was completely subjagated to his will before calling her the whore that she had been paid to become for him today. And he hadn’t even realized it until that moment that the word tasted so much better in his mouth when he used it on Betty than when it was used in conjunction his wife Jean, and Betty really seemed to enjoy the fact that she was his paid for whore for the moment, almost as much as him as he could see her shuddering in another orgasm waiting for his next command.

“Shit! You really do dig this kind of shit, don’t you,” Harold said flatly.

“I’m a whore, what else did you expect?” Betty replied, her tone thick with sarcasm, and truth. Her breath as fresh as the last time she’d licked his and the dog’s assholes.

“Fuck her, boy,” Harold said then, and when the dog mounted Betty’s backside, he reached under between them, grabbed Devil’s growing pointy meat stick, and guided it right up Betty’s poop chute before letting go. Then he sat down on the bed with them to watch, his dick limp and raw from having fucked Betty in the ass twice already himself as Devil shoved his dick in there this time. “Go for it! Fuck the dirty bitch a new asshole, boy! That’s it! Fuck the little whore!”

“Ooooooooh, nooooooooooooo!” Betty cried out as the Great Dane’s cock burned into her butt hole, the knot just starting to grow going into her as well, and she tried desparately to buck the animal off of her back to no avail. In mere moments the dog’s knot was too big for her to throw him off without doing some real damage, and they were locked together, cock to asshole. “Oh, uhn, shit! You bastard! You mother fucker! He’s tearing me apart, and still growing!”

“Yes, I know,” Harold said, and reached over to pull and twist at her hanging nipples.

Harold would have been concerned if the slut wasn’t in the midst of another one of her oragasms right then, just from having the dog’s fearsome prick up her ass, and all the screaming aside, Betty was truly enjoying his harsh treatment of her, as was apparent by her continuing climaxes built one upon the other and following with such rapidity as they were. Her flesh a sheen of sweat as she humped back at the invading cannine cock while at the same time she protested vehemanently as she frigged her clit with her right hand. Harold’s harsh actions really only that of a caring lover working to tantilize, and tease, and bring Betty the most pleasure he could from this outlandish ferel mingling of intimacies. And now it was time for the verbal abuse.

“You sure do look sweet, Betty. Even with that beast on your back fucking your asshole, you look like a million bucks. Too bad all that sexy young flesh is gonna blow up like a big old sow now that you’re all knocked up with that black bastard, eh. I’ll bet you, and Dave just can’t wait to see all those stretch marks covering you everywhere, and have those tits of yours hanging down to your ankles after the baby is born and has sucked them to a mere shadow of their firm youthful magnificience, right?”

“Oooooooooooooooooh, you bastard! You…dirty…prick…son…of…a…bitch,” Betty groaned through yet another multiple orgasm as Devil pumped her butt like a fucking machine.

“I beg your pardon. My mother never even had a pet, let alone allowed some filthy mutt to have her sexually. No, she wasn’t a low life butt fucked whore like you, you know. Most women aren’t. In fact I’ll even bet your own sainted mother was a nice upright Catholic Church going lady herself. To think that she brought a dog sucking, Nigger fucking sleaze bag whore in this world must be breaking her old heart at this very minute.”

“Arrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggg! He’s cuming! He’s cuming in my ass!” Betty cried, her last climax just dwindling as the next one, even more powerful than the others combined, rushed through her flesh shorting out nerve endings one by one until the last curcuit breaker that connected her brain stem to her body suddenly flipped off, and she instantly crumpled into a fetal meltdown hanging from the cannine’s knoted penis stuck up her pretty white ass.

“Damn! I thought she’d never quit,” Harold said to the Great Dane who was panting furiously, hunched over the woman’s back like a blanket of night. He patted the dog’s head, and went to go fetch his camera to take a few snap shots for Dave, and himself adding, “just stay put boy, I’ll be right back. You’ve earned yourself a steak dinner tonight. And don’t you worry, she won’t be leaving until Jean gets back home.”

************

Jean laid still on the mattress made of several bails of hay as Roy brought Trigger over to her. She’d already cum at least five times taking on that mammoth slab of meat dangling between Roy’s legs, limp now after he had filled her pussy with two consecutive loads of his own, stretching her cunt deeper, wider, and bigger than any human prick, to that point, ever had, since the thing was 14 inches long when it was soft, and almost as thick as a beer can around when semi-hard. Jean was drunk alright, but not so drunk that she wasn’t aware that she was about to get fucked by a donkey’s cock next, and she only hoped that Roy’s, not to mention Devil’s prick, and the stretching it had given her twat that day he pulled out so roughly, had prepared her cunt enough to live through this next stretching sexual abhoration.

She’d heard about the whores who fucked donkeys down in Mexico for the tourists, hell everyone in any border town in Texas where she grew up had heard those legends. And now Jean herself was about to be reduced to the status of the worst kind of Tiajuana puta, and all she could think of right then in her drunken state was that it was about damn time! Yet the reality of it seemed so comical by the degree of Roy’s growing inibriation, as he stumbled, and swayed almost held upright by the very animal he was leading over to fuck her.

“Now you mind your manners, hear,” Roy slurred whispering loudly in the donkey’s long ears, “this one’s a real lady, and I don’t want you hurting her none. She’s come a long way to get some of that big dick you been pork’in the other bimbos around here with, so go gently like. And don’t you go a stepp’in on her none, either.”

Roy got all the way to the bails of hay Jean was laying on before he finally fell face first on the bail of hay to Jean’s left, and began snoring right next to her. But he must have done the important part, because Trigger reared up then, and brought both front hooves down on either side of Jean’s head. Had she been sober enough herself she would have freaked, and screamed out as soon as the animal reared up on its hind legs over her naked body unattended, but she wasn’t. In her own drunken mind it all seemed natural enough. That the donkey’s again growing prick ended up butting up against her cum lubricated slit right then defies reason. But Jean lifted her legs up around the animal’s sides, like any whore would taking on their next customer, and reaching down between them grabbed hold or the burro’s prick in both hands, and squeezed the first two inches of it into her hole, already stretched out, and lubricated nicely by Roy’s elepantine dick, before letting go and lifting her arms up to hug the animal over her.

“Giddy up,” Jean called out, and gave the beast a kick in the sides as if she were riding on his back instead of under his belly.

Trigger had long been trained in the fine art of fucking woman since he was a two year old owned by the old mexican whore, and all of the women so far who had snuck into this barn late at night, with and without their husbands. In fact the poor animal had never mated with his own kind, only human females his whole short life, so he was always careful about where he put his hooves down, and how he thrusted once his prick was wedged inside of them.

Jean’s eyes went wide then as close to a foot of donkey cock was shoved into her cunt in one fluid thrust of the donkey’s rear end, feeling like a train crashing through a railroad station wall.

“Uhn!” the breath was knocked out of her as her body recoiled at the sudden invasion, as if Roy himself had just punched his fist and whole right arm up her twat. Her body a wave of feminine action like a slow motion car dummy video taped hitting a wall at 35mph. “Oh shit that smarts!”

“Easy big fellow,” Roy murmured in his druken sleep.

It must have worked Jean figured, as the donkey, hearing his master’s voice, waited a moment, trembling as he stood there over Jean with a foot of his cock buried up her warped out cunt before giving another thrust that pushed her higher on the bails of hay once it bottomed out, and Jean only gasped in relief that his cock hadn’t penetrated to her liver instead.

Trigger stopped then, seeming to wait another long moment to gather himself, and it gave Jean the needed time for her swollen stretched out pussy to get use to all of that dick he had jammed into her body. Somewhat numb from drinking all that tequila, Jean was almost completely sober now, and rational enough to see that she was in no immediate danger from the animal over top of her. As that last thrust proved, if Trigger pushed into her too much she just slid up on the bail of hay at the end of his dick without more of his prick being able to enter her and rupture her innards. On reflection, Jean realized she’d never had such a large male penis in her pussy before, save for Devil’s knoted cock, but this was like all of Trigger’s prick was the size of Devil’s knot shoved into her with close to another foot of cock still hanging out of her in the open, and when the donkey started pulling out a bit, it was like a vacuum sucking her guts out with it before he hunched forward again.

“Oh fuck! Ooooooooh FUCK!” Jean groaned as her pussy went suddenly ballistic with animalistic lust meltdown as the donkey’s huge dick started actually fucking her next to his snoring master. And Jean griped the animal’s sides tightly as she road the mule from underneath instead of on top of his back. After all, she was a whore now, not a lady.

“Damn you…Roy! You picked…a hell…of a time…to pass…out…on me! I hope…your… cameras… are running! Do it…Trigger! Do me…big boy! Fuck Jean! Fuck me…goooooood! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Jean started cuming then as her body was buffeted back and forth like a sack full of water, or a half filled water ballon on a teeter totter. It was those mini cums she often experianced when Devil was riding her back with his knot growing in her pussy as the dog fucked her with a blinding fury, only this time they were continuous, and building in intensity like an orchestra whose sound reverberates through a great hall shaking the walls with the vibrations from the instruments, getting louder, and louder as it rushes towards a roaring, ear deafening crescendo.

Like most girls brought up in Texas Jean had loved riding horses, and even had one of her own. A roan stallion name Hurcules that she excersized daily, and in the process rubbed her pussy along the animal’s spine when riding bareback, or her saddle, when she used one, to several wonderful climaxes. And just like most young women horseback riders she’d had a long standing fantasy of being riden by that self same stallion herself after seeing his cock extending to piss, or mounted one of the local mares. An unrealistic fantasy at best, as most women would agree, with a light trembling fear, and antisipation quivering in their voices as they shared the fantasy with each other. Yet here Jean was doing that very thing, albeit assuredly, with only a donkey perhaps, but the reality of it was exactly the same as those fantasies of old, and Jean revelled in her madness with the illusionary vision of Hurcules riding her as he’d rode those mares years ago, using Trigger’s donkey dick as her link to her only lurid past.

Trigger had fucked a lot of women in his ten years on earth, more than any normal ten men might in their whole lifetime, and he’d learned to go slow from the very beginning thanks to a certain electric prod used on him if he ever humped too fast during his training period. And it was because he fucked so slowly that it took him a lot longer before he managed to cum. That made his testicles work longer and harder producing much more sperm for the eventual outcuming of liquid heat that would burst forth from the little tube like hole at the end of his trumpet flared prick.

In and out, in and out, like an oil derrick pump, that donkey dick thrust in and pulled out the full lenth of Jean’s human vaginal sheath. The smell of the barn, and horses wickering in it, along with the burro’s hairs bristling against her hairless front as his prick plowed into her cunt endlessly, fucking Jean like some mindless machine set on auto fuck, was the epiphany of her life. She was cumming in one everlasting building oragasm of momentum towards a razor sharp cliff that had a sheer drop on the other side that went to the center of the universe if they made it that far. It was then, as she was being royally screwed by the largest penis she’d ever had in her life, clinging to the beast of burden’s underbelly for dear life, that Jean cried out to her true love by name.

“Ooooooh, oh yessssssssss, uhn, uh, oh, yeah, oh yeah Harold! He’s fucking me so fucking goooooooood, baby! So big! Can’t… stop… cum…ing! Can’t stop! Can’t stop! Can’t stop!” Jean beginning to babble suddenly as she was thrust head long over that razor’s edge as the donkey cock in her pussy suddenly erupted with the animal’s pent up excess sperm bank splashing right up against her cervix, exploding cannon balls of jism directly into her womb, and flooding her cunt immediately to overflowing like a dam bursting wide open. And she screamed a blood curdling scream of passion gone mad as she fell into the hole of the universe floating in freefall, flushed right along with that river of donkey filth as that prick popped out of her ravaged hole then, and hosed down the entire front of her body with his sticky, gooey, cream colored nectar. A trick Trigger had learned from the old whore he was trained to fuck in his tour with the donkey show.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhgggggggggggggggggggg!!!”

************

“Here, try this on for size,” Harold said, handing Betty one of Jean’s sheer teddies, the beige one with the matching thong bikini panties that he never saw Jean wear as Betty came into the bedroom from taking her shower.

Harold could hardly believe the glow in the woman after all the brutal fucking, sucking and general whoring she’d accomplished since coming in his back door this afternoon. And aside from all of the sucker bites black and bluing her otherwise perfect firm healthy teats, a rosey pink to her buttocks, and a couple of scratches at her rib cage at her sides, Betty looked as stunningly beautiful as the first day he’d met and oggled her as she took the two wisps of sheer fabric and put them on. He noticed though that she had put on a fresh face of makeup while in the bathroom, and unbraided her ass length red mane to shampoo, and comb it out to a lusterous shimering cascading waterfalls effect now.

“There! How do I look?” Betty ask, then did a full slow turn in her new outfit.

All Harold could do was whistle his appreciation, adding, “You are simply gorgous!”

“I’m glad you approve,” Betty said, her voice once again sultry, and she cuddled up to Harold still in his boxer shorts after his own shower. Her breasts like two over stuffed pillows hugged to his chest when he slept aboard ship, and her lower body, soft and yielding, while at the same time hard and firm pressed up against his. “I’m on my coffee break for the rest of the evening,” she added, and lifted her chin up then to bring her lips up to his for a kiss. One that was as tender and charming as it had been on the beach the night before.

Harold kissed her back then, just as he had on the beach, and was facinated that the same passion returned so quickly after all they had gone through together today. It wasn’t love, at least not the way he loved Jean, but more like compassion, though so much more, and so much less, too. His body responded, though not vulgarly as it had all afternoon, and in moments they were clenched, rolling on the guest room floor instead of the bed, locked one to the other in mutual adoration with one another. Drinking fully from that illusive cup called normalcy.

“Wow! Where have you been all day?” Harold asked as Betty whisked off his boxers, pulled the crotch of her thong aside, and sat down on his erection straddling his waist. It was the first time a prick of any kind had entered her pussy slit all day.

“Well, I’ve been at work,” Betty said smiling, “had a hell of a day in fact. Busted my ass for a new client.”

“I’ll just bet you did,” Harold said as she layed her lush flesh down over him bringing her lips back to his for a joust of dueling tongues as she rocked over him riding his manhood in a slow deliberate wave of continuous motion.

Harold’s arms went up around behind Betty to grasp her firm jiggling buttocks, squeezing them gently, repeatedly as her breasts rubbed up and down his chest like water balloons through the sheer teddy that hid nothing. It was the kind of slow, comfortable, screw that the drink of Southern Comfort, and orange juice was ludely named after, and he could easily understand why the drink was a favorite of many men and women if this was what they were thinking about when they ordered it.

It was the same kind of screwing he and Jean had often enjoyed before…. No. He refused to go there, he’d been there most of the day, and Betty had more than paid for his, and Jean’s sins already this day. If Jean was out whoring, then that was her business. He’d been compensated with Betty’s companionship, and though paid for, as she had just put it, she was on her coffee break now, and there was something about free pussy that had always attracted Harold. It was like getting the best of all Christmas gifts even when it wasn’t Christmas.

************

“You’ve sold me,” Roy said signing the contract before him already signed by Byron. Then handing the signed copies to Byron he took a VCR tape out of his desk drawer, and handed it to Jean. “This is to remember an old cowboy with. I took the liberty of editing it just a mite, but I think you’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will,” Jean blushed, accepting the video tape knowing exactly what was on that tape, and could’t wait to get home to watch it with Harold. The seat under her feeling like it was about to creep into her pussy from the stretching she’d undertaken with that donkey’s dick last night made her mind flash back to her being all sprawled out covered in mule muck from chin to knees, with a wry crooked half smile across her lips. Then Roy handed her a white envelope marked simply Tips, and averted his eyes back to Byron.

“My secretary says you’re seats are reserved for the return flight home,” Roy said, then stood up and shook hands with Byron seeing them to the front door of his ranch where he waved good-bye as they drove off in their rental.

It wasn’t until she was alone in the Jet airplane’s public restroom that Jean opened the envelope and damn near screamed in surprised glee. There inside the white envelope was a cashier’s check for $50,000.00 made out to one Jean Davis for services rendered smiling out at her from inside.

“Fifty thousand dollars,” Jean mouthed to herself in silence, “fifty thousand! I’m not a whore, I’m a fucking gold mine!” And she patted her still slighty sore pussy mound gently through her clothing saying outloud, “Or at least you are.”

What with all the scheduled stops of their flight, and later dropping off their over night bags at the office, Byron didn’t drop Jean off at home until the sun was setting, and true to his word Harold was waiting there for her with arms wide open as he’d promised her.

“See you tomorrow, bright and early,” Byron said backing his car out of the driveway as they waved at him, and went into the house.

“Shit! I’ll bet that hurt,” Harold said as they watched the donkey ram his dick into Jean’s pussy on the TV screen for the first time while he fucked her in the ass with slow deep stokes doggy style. Up until this moment they’d been watching Jean with Roy in the tack room, and since her pussy was still sore Jean had let him fuck her in the rear hole instead.

“Still does,” Jean giggled wriggling her butt back at his cock as he thrust into her harder this time. “Seeing it though, even now after the fact, I can hardly believe he got that big arm of a cock in me at all. I mean, I was drunk by then, but that’s still one hell of a cock to pry into my little pussy slot.”

“Not so small anymore,” Harold chided jokingly, and they both chuckled in glee at that comment.

“You’ll still respect me in the morning, won’t you?” Jean cliched right back.

“Not an ounce less than I did when we were married, even if your cunt gets so big that I can climb into it,” Harold replied seriously this time, and cuddled up to Jean spoon fashion as he wrapped his arms lovingly around her to fondle her pliant breasts, and erect nipples.

“Now that’s something no animal can do,” Jean cooed as he played with her ripe swollen titties there on the living room couch as the donkey began to fuck her pussy on the television, “and for a man, you’re very good at it.”

“You mean you’ve been with a woman?” Harold asked, but managed to keep his voice from trembling.

“Yeah,” Jean replied, “I thought I told you. It was the night I got gang banged over at Betty and Dave’s house when they invited me over for their cook out. She played, and sucked on my titties for hours as each man, one by one fucked me senseless. I think they have a tape of it. They added Byron and Devil to the tape the next day.”

“I see,” Harold replied, and he was seething inside.

So that’s how they did it, he thought. That’s how they changed you into a whore for life. They fucking raped you while you were on drugs, and made you think it was your own idea. He wanted to strike back then, and strike back savagely. But then he remembered his part in Jean’s transformation, and realized he was just as guilty as his neighbors were. More so in fact, because he should have known better than to leave such a fine looking woman alone at home for so long to fend for herself. Besides, he’d gotten his revenge, and then some yesterday with Betty.

“Look!” Jean cried, pointing to the TV screen, “you could almost swear that damn donkey is a human under all that fur coat of his the way he’s fucking me now.”

“Yeah, you could,” Harold agreed with her, considering that Devil fucked her like some crazed lunatic at an insane blinding rate, and the slope eyed critter on the screen was screwing Jean barely as fast as Harold was at that very moment buried deep pumping Jean’s asshole.

“It was like I was riding my old roan stallion Hurcules from underneath,” Jean’s voice taking on a misty resonance to it then, “I was cuming. Cuming like I do sometimes with Devil fucking me, only I couldn’t stop cumming, and each moment my orgasm was building to another higher level at the same time.”

Harold, mesmersized by his wife’s voice as she explained what she went through fucking the beast of burden began to pound into her ass with longer, faster strokes with each passing minute. He wanted to call the slut up there on the screen every vulgar name he could think of for lowering her self to the level of a Tiajuana donkey fucking whore, but he bit his lower lip instead, and rode her rear end like the little burro rode her pussy on screen. And when the finale came on screen, and Harold saw all of that critter’s splooge showering the front of his wife in its thick gooey assault of filth, he came up Jean’s ass like Mt. St. Helen’s when it blew its top off, and Jean came right along with him.

Jean showed Harold the check for fifty grand after their shower as they prepared for bed. It was a whole years worth of wages for the sailor, and Jean had made it all in one night fucking a damn mule.

“Well don’t expect me to go buy that donkey for you,” Harold said trying to keep up a good front, “we barely have room in our bed for Devil to sleep with us, and he might get jealous if we kicked him out for some big old dumb jackass.”

“We could always get a bigger bed,” Jean quiped back suggestively as she slipped under the covers with Harold in the nude.

“We could buy a barn and live in that too,” Harold replied, “but I hardly think you’d take to living like a pig.”

“Well now,” Jean cooed, taking hold of his prick in her left hand as she snuggled up close to him, “I haven’t fucked a pig. Yet. So I’ll have to think on that,” and she giggled hysterically from the look of shock that flashed over Harold’s face at that comment.

“A PIG?!” He mouthed, and suddenly his cock lurched in Jean’s hands getting hard all over again.

************

Dave was fuming when Betty came home.

“You dirty back stabbing WHORE!” He yelled

“You better cool your jets now buster,” Betty spat back in his face, “you ain’t one of my customers, whimp! And if I am a whore, just remember that you made me into one by handing me over to Darrel, and all those other Niggers before him. Look at you! Your little weenie is as hard as a rock just thinking about me with all of those real men pumping their big studly pricks in every hole I own, aren’t you? You’re just pissed because there’s a real man living next door to us. One that knows how to treat a real woman. You ought to just be grateful that Jean latched onto Harold before I caught up with him, or you’d be out in the street on some alleyway guzzling with the winos and begging for pennies right now, you pathetic shell of shit.”

“Yes Mistress,” Dave simpered, lowering his voice and his head under her scathing tongue, “I…I’m sorry.”

“Then prove it! Crawl over here, get your fucking mouth where it belongs for once, and clean me up with your tongue. I’ve got a real man’s cum in my pussy, and dog cum in my ass, and if you’re real good…..real, real good…..maybe I’ll just shit down your faggoty fucking throat.”

Betty opened her robe then to reveal herself in all her black and blue sucker biten naked glory for Dave, and watched as his four inch dingy began to drip a trail of pre-cum on the carpet under him as he crawled on his hands and knees right up to her widely spread apart legs. The outfit she’d worn under the robe when she went next door now tucked away in the left pocket of her robe.

She grabbed Dave by the hair on his head when he got close enough, and pulled his face roughly into her fiery garden, and felt his tongue slither into her seeping slit to taste her sin.

“Yes, that’s it faggot! Lick up that mess! I know you love it so! And just think, in another seven or eight months you’ll be seeing a little Nigger baby popping out of that hole. I hope you’re into changing shitty diapers, because that’s your job, not mine. I’ll be too busy trying to get back in shape for all those Nigger dicks. You wanted me knocked up, and now I am, but you are going to take after that child, or I’ll have Darrel cut that excuse for a dick you have right off, balls and all!” And Betty used her husbands face like he was just so much toilet paper, and smiled down as Dave groveled in her privates like a pig at the trough.

Betty hadn’t always been so cruel, in fact looking back she’d been overly tender, caring, and giving having grown up in a tightly nit family as she had. It had only been after her prince charming wedding, shortly after the honeymoon in fact, that Dave had let Betty in on his idea of what a real trusting, open marital relationship consisted of..the emphasis basicly on the word OPEN. At first it had galled her that her own husband wanted, no, expected her to sleep around with other men, and for the cheap thrill of his watching her as she did it, no less. She’d saved herself for Dave, was a virgin still at 17 the day they got married. So the idea of her fuckig other men only two months after her wedding came as more than a shock to the young bride, it was an affrontery to everything she’d learned from her family up to that point in her life.

The only thing that saved it for Dave, and stopped Betty from divorcing him on the spot, was that Dave only wanted her side of the coin to be open. In other words he wasn’t looking to have sex with other women, he just wanted Betty to openly have sex with other men’s cocks. Inparticularly, black men’s cocks, or at least that’s what he wanted at first. Byron’s dog Devil came along as an added voyuristic bonus.

As head cheerleader, home coming queen, and senior prom queen, Betty had been well aware of her charms over the opposite sex when she was in high school, and then again in her first year of college where she met Dave. He was a senior law graduate, studying for the bar then, and as charming a prince as any princess could aquire. He was a natural born smooth talking lawyer too, or so they gushed at the law firm where he worked now, but if they only knew the real whimp, and his vices they’d probably puke in revulsion.

As it turned out, Betty finally gave in to trying a date with a stranger that Dave had arranged for her. She was so pissed at Dave when she left the house that she knew after the shrimp cocktail was served that she was going to fuck her date. Perhaps it was the sleazy motel, the cheap stained, and slightly yellowed but clean old worn out sheets, or the fact that what she was doing at the time was commiting adultery, that turned Betty into a raving cum greedy slut that night, but whatever it was, the next time Dave set up a date for her she cheerfully agreed to it right away.

The next man was as black as the proverbial Ace of Spades. His lips were so thick, you could land an airplane on them, his nose so flat and wide that Mt. Everest was jealous, and when he smiled his teeth were so white and straight by contrast to his surrounding dark shadow that they looked phospherecent. His name was James, and he was every Grand Wizard of the KKK’s image of what the word Nigger stood for. But he had something most white men envy with a passion, and most any woman was half scared to admit she craved. A very big, though very black, cock, and he deffinately knew how to use it on a white woman, as Betty quickly found out after their dinner, and not at some sleazy motel/notell either. He took her to his home, and fucked her in his own bed, where there were real fresh white linen sheets, all night long, and into the next morning too.

When he dropped Betty off at home, she wasn’t just disheveled, she was wrung out, and still dripping wet when she entered their house. Dave immediately wisked her off to bed where he licked away all the evidence of her debauchery with James. It was the turning point in their marital relationship, and the next date was with Byron right there in their home.

Betty chuckled as Dave moved behind her to lick at her ass hole as she remembered the way Dave cheered her on that night Byron came over, and with his pet Great Dane the two of them shared all of her charms with Dave jerking himself off naked in a chair, and encouraging Betty to go for the gusto at each turn in the road that evening. He didn’t even budge when Devil mounted her back doggy style, while she was sucking Byron off, and even rushed over to help the dog find her slit with his cannine cock that first time.

“Oooooooooooooo yeah, baby!” She cooed going down into a wide legged deep knee bend squat over Dave’s face. “Eat my ass, yeah! It’s still got some dog cum in there, and I know how much you like the taste of that. You should have seen them fucking me together, Dave. And when Harold made me take it in the ass by that big knoted doggy bone you’d have been proud of the whore you created. Mmmhmm, yes, that’s it, stick your tongue right up my poop hole, you turd. I want your tongue to feel it, taste it, when my shit arrives. No! Don’t move!” Betty ordered when he tried to struggle out from under her, sitting on his face fully to hold him still, “and get your faggoty mouth back where it was, especially that tongue. I want it up my ass when the first turd gets there. I think it’s only fair, now that you’ve turned me into a whore, that you get a taste of what I go through out there when I’m with other men. I’m sure you’ll be delighted to hear that I got this idea right from Harold. I guess he thought of it when Darrel shit on my chest and you fucked me with your pathetic little weenie wallowing in that mess like a pig in a sty.”

“What’s that?” Betty continued, though Dave hadn’t said a thing. “Oh, no, he didn’t actually shit down my throat the way I’m going to shit down yours, but he contemplated it, and that’s as good as me doing it, don’t you think? Now get ready, I feel a real big juicy one coming down the pipe!”

Betty gave a little grunt then, and the next thing she heard was Dave choking, and gasping for breath, his body having what looked like an epleptic fit under her, and his four inch pecker spurting stings of cum rope in every direction all over himself.

“Yes, that’s a good little turd boy,” Betty soothed, smiling like the cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland as she reached out to rub the goo into Dave’s skin, “I knew you’d enjoy this as much as me. Now chew it well,and swallow, then you can lick my ass clean with your tongue. Now won’t that be nice.”

That’s when Dave puked all over himself, coughing up shit, but Betty had risen above him straightening her legs to stand looking down on his pitiful elegance.

“Oh well,” Betty said, “we’ll just have to keep trying this until you get it right I guess,” and she headed up stairs stark naked, her ass swinging, and bouncing like a perkalating coffe maner to take a long leasurely bubble bath, leaving Dave to clean up the mess the best he could.

Dave heard her humming loudly a few minutes later, after washing his face in the kitchen sink, and he knew contentment when he heard it. It took him an hour after Betty had gone to bed to finish cleaning up the shit, and puke stain from their carpet, then he went up stairs, took a shower, and climbed in bed laying at Betty’s feet naked, and as usual he popped her left big toe into his mouth and fell instantly asleep.

Betty woke up promtly at 5am, and vomited in the toilet with an unusually bad case of morning sickness, and the cramps. By the end of the day Betty was in intensive care after misscarrying Darrel’s black bastard child. She was no longer pregnant. For some reason, that she couldn’t quite explain to herself, she was actually relieved.

Epilog:

“Don’t worry babe,” the six foot four inch lanky basketball player ex-center of Notre Dame said, folding her pale left hand in his big bear claws, “we’ll make another baby when you’re all better.

Fat chance, Betty thought, but she kept it to herself. No sense antagonizing Darrel. After all, he’d given her so much pleasure up to now. But she’d made up her mind after waking in the hospital bed and finding out that she’d misscarried Darrel’s baby. She would never get pregnant again, just to get pregnant by a black man. She didn’t love Darrel, and he surely didn’t love her. They more or less just used each other to slake their lust, and their rage against the world. They’d had their fun, but it didn’t work out, at least as far as the baby part was concerned, and Betty was a person who believed in the conviction of fate’s hand in these matters. She wasn’t about to temp that master trickster again.

No, Betty would continue whoring alright, she couldn’t help but do anything but whore around now, she’d come to enjoy the taste of that forbidden fruit way too much to give it up on a mere casualty of fate. Instead, she had decided that a little experimentation might be just the thing once she got well again. Dave would certainly love whatever perversity she wanted to try out next, or bring home. He wasn’t Harold, few men were, but Dave had his good points too, even as few as those were. For one, she had complete mastery over his sexuality. Betty could make her husband bark at the moon naked in Time’s Square at the stroke of midnight New Years Eve if she wanted him to. He was utterly devoted to her every whim, and in time would learn to enjoy eating her shit, she was sure.

And then, of course, there was Harold and Jean to consider too. Betty wanted them both equally as casual sex partners, and with any luck at all, she’d have them both soon. Together if possible, separate if not, but have them both she would. Even if she had to let that dog of theirs fuck her in the ass every day for a month to do it, she would. But Betty would have to figure out a way to get around Darrel first, and she thought Byron might be able to help her out there. If he still wanted her after taking on Jean as his personal whore. And she could hardly blame him if he didn’t want her after aquiring a dish like Jean either. Of course this didn’t mean that Betty was giving up Niggers as a steady diet either, nor dogs, goats, or anything else with a dick, and she smiled sweetly at Darrel at that thought before falling fast asleep.

************

“I hear you’re coming to work for Byron,” Jean said over a cup of coffee in her kitchen a week after Betty was released from the hospital on a Saturday morning, “what happened with Darrel?”

“Only part time to start. Nothing really, it just didn’t work out for us is all,” Betty lied, “we’re still friends, but he has a new squeeze, a platinum blond bitch that he says looks a little like that Bay Watch centerfold, not Pam, the other one, with the natural boobs, Erika something or other.”

“Maybe it’s all for the best,” Jean suggested, though rather lamely if she thought about it.

“I think so,” Betty replied positively, yet, circling the spoon in her cup though it didn’t really need stirring anymore, “besides, it will give me the opportunity to work with you now.”

“Now that’s something I hadn’t considered,” Jean said, eagerness in her voice now.

“What’s this about you two working together?” Harold asked joining them, and he poured himself a cup of coffee, then sipped at it straight, without sugar or cream as he sat down between them.

“Betty is Byron’s whore now too,” Jean informed him, “and we may be working together once in a while.”

“Oh?” and Harold’s eyebrows went up hearing that.

“Men!” Jean huffed, though it was just in fun. “They all want to see two babes go at it hot and heavy, but just suggest bringing another man into the picture with them, and look out!”

“Believe me,” Betty put in her two bits, “seeing Dave sucking on Darrel’s prick wasn’t very sexy to me either, Harold.”

“You’re taking his side?” Jean gasped.

“In this matter yes. I don’t know whether it was just Dave or what, but it didn’t look right to me.”

“Well that’s probably because Dave isn’t a queer,” Jean defended her point.

“Yeah, maybe,” Betty replied not convinced of either the point or the statement, and that made them all laugh. “In any case, I still agree with your husband. Two good looking chicks making it gets me hot as well.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jean grinned, and then blushed beet red remembering the fourth of July gang bang.

“I think it makes Jean hot to trot too,” Harold snickered when he caught the blush, “especially when the other woman sports a furry red bush above a bald slit.”

“Harold!” And Jean punched her husband in the arm

“Well,” Harold protested,” I was just thinking that maybe you two should practice, you know, together, before you get called by Byron to do it cold turkey. I mean….”

“I think he means we should rehearse,” Betty giggled, “and he’s willing to pretend to be the John for us.”

“I don’t know,” Jean replied, hessitant to that idea, “I mean there’s a lot to be said for spontaneity.”

“I’m not on my period, and the doctor says I’m fit to have sex,” Betty put in, winking at Harold and eyeing Jean up and down in the process.

“Then it’s settled,” Harold announced, “we do a dress rehearsal today. I’ll be the John and you two, of course, will play yourselves,” he delicately had walked around the word whore without having to say it as they already knew what they would be doing when they got paid for it. This was more or less for fun to see if it would work.

“That means you have to dress up,” Jean look pointedly at her husband, “our clients are highly motivated, extremely prosperous business men. I’ll get your blue suit out while you take a shower, and shave, and Betty and I can go over to her place and get ready. I’ll take what I need with me over there.

“And even Dave can help this time,” Betty put in, “by taping it all on video so we can go over our performance step by step later on.”

“I guess that’ll work,” Harold grumped, not really wanting Dave around his house again with a video camera, but seeing no way out of it. He didn’t trust the man, but it seemed that Betty did, “I’ll put Devil out in the back yard too.”

“No need,” Betty returned, “we may get a client who has a pet, and we might have to fit that in as well.”

“Not while Dave has a camera in his hand you won’t,” Harold insisted, and he lead Devil out the back sliding door ending any arguement, and received a shrug from both women as consent, “if need be, I’ll tape that part with my camera after he leaves.”

Harold had just finished tieing his tie, and was putting on his suit jacket when the doorbell rang. He took a moment to check himself out in the mirror, and decided he looked like a million bucks, even if he didn’t have more than a few grand in the bank. Then he hurried down the steps to the front door, took a deep breath, and opened the door. His prick started getting hard almost immediately at what he saw waiting on his door steps.

Jean and Betty had gone all out in their efforts to make this a perfect dress rehearsal. Jean with her short cropped honey blond hair had vied for wearing black, and Betty looked absolutely stunning with her long red hair done up in back dressed all in lime green. Both wore diaphanous gowns, little more than whispers of material really, though not exactly see through they implied much, and ended down around their high heels. Betty’s gown having straps as hers was backless all the way to her hips, but both women showed a lot of cleavage just the same, and though inticing and sensual to the extreme, not brashy, or brazenly so. It was Hollywood fashion, respectable, and subtley daring, both at the same time.

“Well now,” Harold said moving right into his roll and adlibing, “you two must be the ladies that Byron sent over. Come on in,” and he held the door open as he moved aside, only giving Dave a serious look once the two women went passed him. He hoped the man took his look as a serious warning. At the moment, Harold could break the man’s neck without blinking, and never feel a bit of remorse, and with Harold’s military background, that was no idle threat.

Both women quickly moved to the couch were they sat down leaving a space between them, and crossed there legs. Harold hadn’t noticed that the gowns had slits in them before that moment, but his dick twitched in his pants at the sight of all that nylon clad leg suddenly put on display for him, and it was obvious now, that both women’s nylons were held up by garterbelts, the uniform of the night worn by whores, and brides on their honeymoon, world wide.

“Come sit between us,” Betty invited, patting the cushion on her left.

“Yes,” Jean agreed, patting the same cushion on her right, “it’s much more comfortable over here.”

Harold beamed as he sat down inbetween the two lushious book ends, and leaning back was instantly comsumed by their fragrant musk scented softness, getting a boob up against each side of him, and a pasha’s harem like attention from their roving hands and lips. In less than a minute, the two women had his shirt open, his pants unzipped, unsnaped, and unbelted, his jacket and tie neatly drapped over the arm of the couch, and a pair of lips and fingers tantilizing, and playing in his chest hairs as a tongue did a dance the full length of his exposed throbbing dick. Things were going much too fast, but then Harold knew that was his que.

“Whoa, ladies,” Harold laughed, gently pushing both women away, “not so fast. We want this party to last a while don’t we? How about a little girl, girl action first, and then when it’s right I’ll join in with you.”

“Sounds okay to me,” Betty said, and looked to Jean, and shrugged.

“I’ll give it a try,” Jean piped in.

Suddenly it became very quiet, and the front room sizzled with the static charge of electricity in the air as both women came in close together over Harold’s lap to kiss each other. Make-up perfect, their painted wet lips met tentatively at first. Tongues tasting each others bright red lipstick covered lips. Those lips parting as tongues slipped inside exploring. Then hands reaching out to join in the silent ballet before the rustle of nylon, silk, and taffeta added music to the ears, followed by whimpering moans of pleasure.

On the one hand Harold envied Dave’s camera’s view, and on the other he wouldn’t have changed places for a million bucks being right there in the middle having all of that soft pliant femininity rubbing up against him as the two women didn’t so much as have sex with each other, no, it was more like they were making love to each other in that secret way only two women can. Harold was both slightly jealous, and highly turned on at the same time. Jealous that he wasn’t one of the women, but turned on because he was a man given this rare priviledge of being a part of their saphic quest.

Soon a taunt nipple became exposed, and when it was, it was quickly attended by either finger tips, lips, or a tongue teasing at it gently. There was no hurried action by either woman, but each move was a dilberate statement, a confirmation of trust, and tethered excitement. Invisible sparks danced back and forth between the two women as was evidant by their simpering, and moaning as well as the shivering, and tremblings of each female’s enchanted flesh. Unlike with a man and woman when they make love, there was no break in the action for striping. Material, as light as a morning mist was simply carressed out of the way, or left in place for its satiny touch against the skin to further tease and heighten sensations already in pleasurable turmoil.

Harold didn’t dare touch his brick hard erection for fear that the touch alone would set his balls on an overload that he would be unable to contain or halt. His every sense, except taste, reeling from erotic inputs, the sounds, the sight, the cushiony flesh up against his, and the aroma of their perfums mixed in together with their heated excitement was almost overwhelming to Harold in its intensity. It deffinately smelled like the proverbial French Cat house there on his couch, which wasn’t that far from the truth, save for the geographic location, concidering the circumstances at hand, and Harold felt like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world right then.

Even without touching himself, Harold still almost lost it when the two whores, one his wife, the other his next door neighbor, became inverted after they slipped down to the carpeted floor. Seeing Jean take her first tentative lick from underneath at that shaved slit area below Betty’s lush red pubic bush was a sight he’d never forget as the sound of Betty’s tongue slurping at his wife’s groove at the same time, and assaulted the air with the frest scent of hot pussy as well. Then watching closely as Jean’s finger tips pulled the pink petals of her neighbor’s moist flower apart, and stuck her tongue inside to dip out the nectar waiting for her there for the very first time, was just too much for Harold to sit by and not participate. His only problem was, Harold had no idea how to jump in, or even where to start.

Harold got up then, and stripped naked, leaving his clothes piled on the couch, he took a quick walk around the two locked in lesbian heat, and decided the best bet, at least at first, would be to get down and join his wife in eating Betty’s pussy. That way it would ensure Jean that he wasn’t showing any prefferences, just joining her in the fun, and Betty would understand and not be offended either since it was her pussy he would be eating. Taking care not to break his cock in two in the effort Harold was soon lying on the carpet with his face inverted over Jean.

He closed for a passionate kissing tongue duel with his wife first, tasting Betty’s pussy on her lips and tongue. Then he raised his head and took a swipe with his tongue at the source, and Jean joined him, with her own tongue concentrating on Betty’s erect clitty as Harold’s sliced inside. Betty’s rump began to bounce up and down immediately at the two pronged attack on her sensitive slit, and at the same time renewed her own attack on Jean”s cunt with a fury. In seconds both women were writhing on the carpet in ecstasy cuming in each other’s mouths sapho fashion, and working towards the next level up. That’s when Harold drew up to his knees, and moved in behind Betty’s wagging rump placing his hands on her hips, and dangling his dick over Jean’s face inches from where her lips were attending to Betty’s snatch.

Jean knew instantly what Harold wanted, and reached up with her delicate left hand, took hold of Harold’s prick in the middle, and pulled him towards Betty’s salivating pussy guiding the crowned head of his prick right into their neighbors slit before letting go.

“Do it,” Jean entreated, “fuck her Harold. I want to watch your cock fucking her pussy!”

They hadn’t really talked about what took place between Harold and Betty while Jean was gone, but this was Jean’s way of saying that it was okay with her if he fucked this vuluptuous woman, and he breathed a sigh of relief, then pushed his dick slowly into Betty’s pussy. Since the woman hadn’t had any sex since having been hospitalized with the misscarriage her pussy was actually very snug once again. One might even say tight by comparrison to several weeks before, but nonetheless a pussy that thrilled Harold’s dick all the way to the root. As Harold always said, tight was nice, but snug was more fun, and hurt a hell of lot less.

In no time Harold was pumping in, and out of Betty’s gash with Jean underneath licking at their connection. He started with short easy strokes, and lengthened them as he fucked until he was stroking the full ten inches in and out in a slow methodical rhythm. Betty flipped in responce cuming twice in rapid sequence as cock and tongue together, working on her pussy, was just too much for her body, and mind to cope with. Each time Betty came with the double assault on her sensitive quim she would grind her ass back, and mash her pussy against Jean’s chin hard. Betty’s juices pouring out of her only to be gathered up quickly by the other woman’s slithering, talented tongue at every turn.

“Oh, uhn, oh shit! Oh shit! I’m cuming again! Uhn, oh, ooooooooooo fuck! Too much! Yeessssssssssssss, oooooooooohhh yessssssssssssssss! Eat me! Fuck me! Oooooooooooh!”

Harold and Jean brought Betty to a third crashing orgasm that way before Betty managed to roll over and put Jean on top of her inverted. Harold quickly went around to Jean’s backend, and with Betty’s assistance this time entered his wife’s pussy the same way he had entered Betty’s before, and started the same thing with Jean this time as Betty licked at their connection from underneath.

Jean instantly went ballistic, her butt bouncing, and wagging in every direction at once from their intense assault on her privates. Harold wasted no time on short strokes this time, and hanging onto Jean’s rolling hips shagged into her with a pounding tempo that had her buttocks jiggling like molded jello as Betty took a lip lock on Jean’s clit and hung on for dear life. Jean did the very same thing to Betty and simultaniously jammed two fingers of her right hand into Betty’s cunt, finger fucking the red head at the same time in a sexual fuck fest of oneupmanship.

The forgotten camera man, Dave, getting it all on tape as he jerked himself off pitifully on the side lines. He was aware now that his wife’s attraction for Harold, and Jean both was at last being fulfilled, and he took some measure of comfort in that at least, though dreading secretly its conclusion as that meant Betty would come up with something new and different to challenge her soon, and torture him with, if she could, as well. She had already successfully turned Dave into her toilet slave, her bidet as she refered to him in private, and he could only shiver at what she might come up with next, the taste of her last bowel moment still lingering on his tongue even after a whole bottle of Listerine.

Still, at least Betty was no longer Darrel’s whore, and Dave wouldn’t have to suck that big black prick anymore. Byron was more into actually using his whores to further his own company’s goals than to parade them dressed in little more than a smile on some busy city street corner for $50.00 a pop the way Darrel did with Betty on occation. Jean even had customers over to her house sometimes, and Dave looked forward to Betty doing the same thing with him looking on while she did, or like todays rehearsal, having them both over to watch.

However somehow, Dave didn’t think Harold would allow that to happen if both women were involved, and Byron had already hinted to Dave that Harold’s barbeques, and cocktail parties were becoming a secret legend amongst the pimp’s clientell, and business partners.

Dave was jealous of Harold, of course. The man just wouldn’t take to cuckolding lying down. He made cuckolding the old way, Dave’s way, look shabby and cheap by comparison, and added an excitement, and comfortable ambiance to the visiting strangers that came to fuck Jean, by treating them as invited guests to his home. That was just too impressive for any man to pass up. Dave had even heard Darrel comment that Harold was a real man’s man, and not a whimp like Dave. That going over Harold’s for one of his barbeques was like mingling with friends at a Super Bowl Game one minute, and enjoying the cheerleader’s favors after the game the next. And coming to one of Harolds cocktail parties, well, that was even better than going to the high school senior prom, and scoring with the prom queen herself, which in Jean’s case was also true, and something she had in common with Betty’s past.

Nope. Dave didn’t think Harold would be inviting him over here again anytime too soon. Harold had already proven himself independant on that score when Betty had whored for him while his wife was away on business. Dave would have to learn to be satisfied with what he had made for himself with Betty, and the crumbs that these three might throw his way. Being a lawyer though, Dave considered that it was at least a better prospect than being left out in the dark entirely as he went in for a tight close up of Betty’s face under Jean’s bouncing butt at the end of Harold’s thrusting prick. Not a losing case any way he looked at it, and he got the money shot as Harold’s cock unloaded its wad in Jean’s pussy, and cum leaked out around the connection to dribble down over on top of Betty’s beautiful face, and in her mouth in the process.

Author’s Final Pompus Note*

Okay, so it’s not a happy, sappy, sad, romantic, terrifying, or otherwise endearing ending, and there is no new deep, or real moral to this story for you to learn from. But hey! That’s life for you! One minute everything is going along smoothly down life’s highway, and then you hit a nasty bump in the road, or run over a deep pothole. Other than getting a realignement on your front end there isn’t much you can do, but drive on, or trade the bitch in for a whole new set of problems. Right? Besides, you didn’t read this story because you were looking for a lecture on immorality. Right? In lecherous circumspect, you read it to masturebate to, so that you wouldn’t get AIDs or some other deadly desease from doing what these imaginary people did casually with strangers. Right? Now stop beating off so much, (That is, if you’re a guy.), and go treat your lover the way you know you should, or someone else certainly will. Right. Hhmm, I guess there was a moral after all

 

Tags: doggy, Fuck me, knot

ANIMAL SEX-Related posts

• Wife
    Summer in Piccadilly is a hot affair, even the streets steam up after the sun rises. I was glad therefore to be in this little fish and chips shop enjoying my friends company as well as the air-conditioning when four nice married white ladies came in and sat at the next table. Now normally [...]
• Gillian’s Makeover (Chapter 3)
  "If Jason from custodial calls, put him through immediately," I told Caroline the next morning as I entered my office. Sure enough, his call came around 10am, and Caroline put it through. We only talked for a few seconds, and it was all business if anyone was listening, but it required [...]
• Gillian’s Makeover (Chapter 2)
  I kept Caroline over for an hour the following evening, and we finished up the last of the paper work just before she went home at six. That gave me a couple of hours to get ready to meet Henry over at Joey's Dinner, and I made good use of that time [...]
• Dog Trek In Search of the Sublime Whores
     Dog cock pounded into every hole she owned, her body jerked back and forth, and sideways. Twisting, and turning her in every direction as they took their pleasure from her without concern for her own release. 20, 30, 50, a 100 different dogs used her for their enjoyment as if she were a racing [...]

Write a comment

Name

E-mail (will not be shown)

Website

Security Code: