(Two weeks later...)

God, it's hot. I opened my mailbox: junk mail...nothing but junk mail.

"Junk mail," a voice parroted my thoughts. I looked up...Heather. I
glanced around. I could have sworn there was no one near the mailboxes
when I walked up. She was wearing what I jokingly referred to as her
'housewife clothes:' a baggy sweatshirt with a wide neck and short jean
shorts. Her feet, as always, were bare. As far as I could tell, when
she wasn't hanging out with my wife she was lounging around in this
outfit eating bon-bons and watching Oprah. I assumed her youth (24
years old) was the only thing keeping her body from succumbing to her
sedentary lifestyle. It was nice, by the way...her body. She didn't
have the curve of Jennifer's hips and ass, or her strong sexy legs, but
there was something about her. Her body was lean, lithe, and youthful.
If Jennifer was the athletic, bouncy cheerleader, then Heather was the
trouble-making schoolgirl that flirted with her teachers and hid
cigarettes in the bathroom.

"Nothing but junk mail," she continued, "...wait, here's a bill, yaaay."
I half-smiled; she had a dry sense of humor like mine.

"Hey, could be worse," I offered, "could be no mail at all. At least
this way we know that there's someone out there who loves us. In this
case it's..." I flipped over the top piece of mail, "United Self
Storage...look: 'First month for ten dollars.' I love you too, United
Self Storage."

She put her hand on my arm and laughed.

"Oh, Nick." She was looking me in the eye, and there was an awkward
moment of silence with her face two feet from mine before she turned to
go. "I'll see you around, laugh-factory."

"Bye, Heather" I watched her go. Those long, young, naked legs and
bare feet made the caveman in me want to spread my seed. I shook my
head; I would never let Jennifer talk to someone the way Heather talks
to me. I locked my mailbox and climbed the stairs to my second story
one-bedroom.

I crossed the threshold from summer-sun baked reality to my cool dark
escape capsule. Safe behind the double-locked door, my eyes adjusted to
the living room. The hood light above the stove illuminated a pair of
simmering pots, and the rich smell of a roast wafted from the oven
below. I dropped the pile of junk mail into the trashcan and let my bag
fall to the floor with a thunk.

Jennifer called from the bathroom down the hall, "Hi, honey...how was
work?" She must have just finished her post-gym shower (spinning class,
I think). A layer of steam was drifting from the bathroom and rolling
along the hallway ceiling. I felt a weight in my gut at the sight of
it, and my thoughts flashed to a steamy, soapy shower taken two weeks
ago. I closed my eyes and swallowed the knot away. Was the air
conditioning on? I felt a little flushed and loosened my tie.

Jennifer peeked her head out from the bathroom, her hair was done and
she was putting the back onto an earring. What was she getting ready
for? I sensed that our Thursday night routine of sweats and television
was threatened.

"Nick...honey... How was work?" I heard the question finally and the
tension of two-hundred computer users came rushing back.

"Blah...it's not worth mentioning." I flopped down on the couch with a
stress-releasing exhale that started deep in my gut. "I'm just ready to
sit down in front of the boob-tube and enjoy some mindless must-see-tv."

"Oh, Nick, I'm sorry, Heather's coming over tonight." She peeked out
again with an apologetic grimace, a mascara brush in her hand. "I'm so
sorry I didn't mention it when I called you at lunch, sweetie."

Exasperated, I dropped my head back into the pillows and rolled my eyes
at the ceiling.

"Not tonight, Jenn. Did you already invite her?"

"Yes, she called this morning. Andy's out of town for the next few
nights and I told her she could come over for dinner and maybe a movie."
She stuck her lower lip out at me sympathetically, "Oh, pumpkin, I know
you worked hard all day. I'll make sure we stay out of your way after
dinner. Maybe you can play your computer games while we watch a girlie
movie." She disappeared back into the bathroom.

Makeup? For Heather? Jennifer rarely wore makeup...sure she took care
of herself (her corner of the shower looked like a Bath and Bodyworks
display), but she rarely left the house with more than lotion on her
skin and sunscreen on her face. She was a natural beauty, and that was
her style. She didn't need to rely on makeup with her perfect, soft
skin, gorgeous eyes, and that amazing nuclear-powered smile that could
inspire feats of heroism. She'd get made up for special occasions, like
a nice dinner out, or our anniversary, but not for an evening visit from
our neighbor.

"How long until she comes over?" I wondered up at the ceiling.

"I told her she should show up around seven." I glanced at my watch:
six thirty-four. Ugh...no cave-time for me it seemed. With great
effort I pulled myself into a standing position and made my way to the
bathroom. Jennifer was brushing some blush across her cheeks. I
glanced over her shoulder at myself in the mirror; I made a goofy face
like I was going to be sick. She smiled then gave me another sympathy
pout.

She was wearing a cotton blouse and a light skirt that came down to just
below her knees. She was bending forward slightly to get her face close
to the mirror, and her ass was just inches from my crotch. The light
material of her skirt draped down between her round curves, and my limp
cock twitched slightly in my pants at the sight. The all too familiar
fragrance of her body wash was still fresh in the steamy air; the smell
and the moist heat were too much, and my mind flashed to the shower,
Jennifer's soapy ass sliding up and down the length of my cock.

I suddenly felt slightly claustrophobic as the weight returned to my
gut. I felt pin-pricks of perspiration on my forehead, and realized I
wanted out of the bathroom. She glanced at me and misinterpreted my
expression.

"You look fine, babe, just lose the tie." I stepped sideways out into
the relatively cool, fresh air in the hallway and took some deep
relaxing breaths to slow my thumping heart.

"You should turn on the fan when you shower...then it won't get so hot
and sticky in there." I offered as I pulled the knot from my collar and
adjusted my now semi-erect cock so that it would have a chance to
recover.

"Oh, sorry," and she flipped the switch starting the motor with a hum.
"Though, you usually seem to like things that are hot and sticky."

"Ha, ha...very funny." I was feeling unusually uncomfortable with this
kind of talk. I normally enjoyed our flirty rapport, but for the last
couple weeks for some reason it made me feel...a little off.

"Oh, Nick; I was just joking." She flipped the light off and walked out
towards the kitchen. Her skirt was swinging like a bell hung on her
swaying ass as she went. Whether consciously or not: she knew what she
was doing.

"Sorry, Jenn...I just need to unwind." I watched her work the kitchen
with domestic grace like the southern girl that she is, her golden hair
spilling down as she bent to check the roast. "Why so formal, tonight?"
I asked.

"Oh, it's no big deal, I just thought we'd do something a little nicer.
It's not a black-tie affair or anything, I'm just making some prime rib.
Would you set the table, please?" Before I could reply, the doorbell
rang.

"I'll get that," I answered. It was Heather. She had cleaned up well
in the half-hour since I saw her. She was wearing a snugly fit v-neck
sweater and jeans...nice designer-looking jeans it appeared on second
glance. "Look at you," I quipped, "You're actually wearing shoes." The
hem of her jeans hid all but the painted toes of her wedge sandals. She
shoved a bottle of wine into my stomach and brushed right in past me.

"...and you without a tie, Nick, I'm flabbergasted." She sat down on
the couch with a sense of poise I'd rarely, if ever, seen from her and
started flipping through a magazine that was sitting on the coffee
table. I was still holding the doorknob.

"Oh, well, do please, come in and make yourself at home, neighbor," I
fired back and shut the door.

"Hardy-har-har, Nick; I spend more time in here than you do with the
hours you work." She looked great, and the sweater made me realize for
the first time that her usual baggy sweatshirt hid the fact that she had
great tits. They were good sized but not too big, they just had a
really nice shape to them. Maybe this was the first time I was seeing
her wearing a bra. I couldn't make out any signs of shoulder straps but
-

Oh, shit.

She was watching me over the magazine. How long had I been staring at
her breasts? I felt my face go red-hot and looked up at Jennifer. She
was at the stove, her back turned, thank god. A smile slowly crept
across Heather's face.

"Jesus, Nick," she said, "maybe I should let your wife borrow the
sweater." I was staring at her feet and my mouth was agape in
preparation for the apology I knew should come but couldn't make.

"What was that?" Jennifer asked over the gurgle of boiling water, her
back still turned. I was frozen like a deer. Heather stood and slowly
walked towards me. I was still staring at her manicured feet, but in my
peripheral vision I could sense her exuding sexuality as she swaggered
over. Time stood still as she reached a slender hand out for me and...

She snatched the bottle of wine out of my hand.

"I was just telling Nick that he should crack open this wine before it
goes bad." She was still standing in front of me, and I could tell she
was looking into my eyes even though I was now staring at her belt
buckle. I glanced up.

"Sorry, Heather," I mumbled. She rolled her eyes and turned towards the
kitchen. Even humbled as I was, I couldn't help but risk a look at her
denim-clad ass as she brought the bottle into the kitchen. I love the
way a woman's ass moves inside a pair of tight jeans, and my eyes were
still glued to Heather's when she got to the kitchen counter and bent
over to get the corkscrew out of the bottom drawer, and they were STILL
glued when Heather looked back at me from under her arm with a wide
smile on her face. Caught again.

God damnit!

Shaking my captive eyes free I made a beeline for the bathroom. I shut
the door and ran the faucet, splashing my face with cold water.

"You fucking idiot. What the hell is your problem?" I chastised at my
reflection. Glancing down I saw that an erection was tenting my khakis.
I looked back up at myself incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me?
Tell me she didn't notice that." I shook my head in disbelief and shut
off the water. Then I took a deep breath and willed my cock down before
opening the door again a couple minutes later.

Heather was already sitting at the table as Jennifer brought dishes of
food from the kitchen. I guess Heather was done giving me a hard time
because the dinner went without a hitch.

"Leave the dishes," Jennifer insisted, "I'll get them later." She
looked at me, "You've been a real trooper, Nick, why don't you get some
private time for yourself. Heather and I are just going to watch girlie
movies for the rest of the night anyway."

Heather, gave me a look, "Unless you want to watch with us," she smiled.

"No thanks," I answered, "I've had my fill of Jane Austen movies for the
month."

The girls each took their glasses and a fresh bottle to the couch as I
made my way down the hallway to the bedroom. Once the door was closed I
let out a sigh and released a knot that I didn't realize I was holding
in my chest since getting busted by Heather for ogling her.

I sat down at the computer desk and logged in, and within minutes I was
online shooting my simulated AK-47 at 13-year-olds halfway across the
country.

Every once in a while I heard the girls in the other room laughing...not
the refined giggling of women sipping afternoon tea but late-night,
punchy, drunken laughter. I had no perception of time passing, but
before I knew it the doorknob was turning.

"Knock knock," Heather said as she cracked the door open. She saw me at
the computer and came over to stand behind me; she sipped on a half-
empty glass of red wine.

"Where's Jennifer?" I asked, still eyeing the game.

"Asleep on the couch...or passed-out on the couch to be precise. That
little cheerleader of yours can't hold her liquor." She reached around
me to set the glass on the desk next to my keyboard. As she did one of
her soft, sweater-bound breasts slid heavily across the top of my
shoulder.

My cock twitched and I was immediately unable to concentrate. I quickly
logged off and stood.

"I'm being a bad host, let me walk you out," I said as I moved past her
and through the door.

She caught up with me in the short hallway and grabbed my arm turning me
towards her. Even with my back close to the wall behind me we were in a
tight spot. The wall fixture over my head was turned off so we were in
a dark section across from the bathroom door. She moved in close and I
could smell her perfume.

"Nick, I know you want me," she breathed. She reached down and put her
hand against my cock, "and I want you to want me." I grabbed her wrist
and started to move away but she just pressed her hand against me as I
backed up against the wall. Out of room, I was up on my toes gripping
her wrist tightly.

"Heather wait, you know we can't -" I looked towards the living room; my
wife stirred slightly.

"Shhhhhhh," she interrupted and started to slowly rub the length of my
cock with the palm of her hand. My member quickly swelled, straining
against my pants and Heather's pressure. I started to close my eyes as
other senses started to take over and my breathing started to get
shallow.

"Uh...oh...Heather, stop...Jennifer will...oh" I protested. In a feat
of Herculean effort I tried to pull her hand off my cock but could only
lessen the pressure slightly. I glanced over at my sleeping wife, then
gave Heather a look and tried a serious tone,

"Heather, I...I can't do this." She looked right back and kept her
rhythm. My look had come across more lust-hungry than serious.

"Okay, Nick...I'll stop," she said as she did the exact opposite and
continued rubbing me. "But only on one condition." My cock was poking
through the fly of my boxers and tenting my pants. A wet spot was
forming just below my belt buckle where pre-cum was leaking from my
swollen tip.

"Uh...Ahhhnything...anything, just please..." My eyes started closing
again, and my protests were getting breathy and weak.

"Take off your shirt." The pre-cum was really soaking through now, and
Heather's rubbing was beginning to spread it down the front of my fly.

"Wh...uhh...what?"

"Your shirt - I want to see your chest. Take off your shirt and this is
as far as it goes. No one has to know." In my state, her strange
request seemed logical. I didn't say a word, I just pulled my shirt and
undershirt out of my pants and started lifting them over my head. Thank
god she would finally put a stop to this.

Before the shirts were completely off, Heather grabbed them between my
arms and hooked them over the wall fixture above my head.

"W-wait...whuh...what are-" she put her finger against my lips.

"Shhhhhh, just relax, Nikki...Mommy's taking over."

Her words sent waves through my body. I was immediately reminded of my
shower with Jennifer. My crotch was now sloppy slick with copious
emissions, and Heather's hand was slowly slip-sliding up and down with
ease.

"Mmmmm," she hummed, "Jenn's honey-bun is all wet, isn't he?" She
unbuckled my belt and unzipped my fly, dropping my pants to the floor
around my ankles. My erection bobbed free, sticking shamefully out of
my boxers.

"I asked you a question, Nikki." As she talked she gently ran her
fingernails along the underside of my exposed cock. Her touch was
electric.

My head was swimming; I couldn't remember what the question was, and she
lost her patience.

"Listen, princess," she whispered in my ear, "I'm not your sweet,
adoring wife, Jennifer; I'm not going to dote on you like some
cheerleader, Donna Reed homemaker." She spoke in a soothing tone and
was still running her nails softly up and down my member, but her change
in mood made the tender caress suddenly seem a little menacing.

She gripped my open fly from the sides and suddenly yanked apart ripping
my boxers wide open. They hung in tatters from my hips. She looked
through the bathroom and brought out a pair of scissors. Two quick
snips of my waistband and I was naked and exposed from wrists to ankles.

She held the boxers in one hand at her side and with the other she
reached up and firmly gripped my shaft. The warm, full contact of her
small, soft hand was melting my insides.

"Ohhhh," I moaned as I slumped against the wall, hanging from my wrists.
The light fixture over my head creaked with the strain, but held. I
waited for the inevitable stroking of my cock, but it didn't come. She
applied an easy, steady pressure, and after a minute I started to
squirm.

"Unnngh," I whined as I tried to thrust my cock into her soft, warm
grip, but she just moved her hand with me. I opened my eyes to plead
with her and saw that she was smiling at me in disbelief.

"Oh, Nikki, Nikki...what am I going to do with you?"

Under heavy eyelids I glanced at my wife. She was still passed out, but
she rolled her reclining head in my direction. Her gorgeous face
resting on the back of the couch, her eyes thankfully closed. Heather
noticed my stare.

"What's wrong, Nick? Worried your happy home-maker will see you like
this?" She slowly eased her hand down my throbbing shaft to squeeze
around the base.

"Mmmmmm," the moan that escaped my lips was involuntary. She leaned
closer and spit on the tip of my cock then slid her hand back up to the
tip and started a slow, steady rhythm.

"Ooooohh," I cooed as I closed my eyes and rocked my head back against
the wall between my bound arms.

"This is how you like it, isn't it, Nick? Nice and slow at first.
That's what she told me." What did she mean? My mouth hung open and I
was starting to pant. "Jennifer and I share everything," she smirked,
"and when she told me that you two had some fun in the shower I made her
tell me every detail."

What? She knew? I was breathing heavy and caught the sight of her
smirking face.

She knew.

She looked over her shoulder at Jennifer, only a few feet away.

"What would she think of her big, strong man now? The man of the
house...her lord and master strung up like a damsel in distress."

Jennifer HAD told her everything; Heather spoke, and my wife's words
came out of her mouth.

"Huh, Nikki? What would she think? She's already looking this way.
All she has to do is open those pretty eyes; it's not like you could run
and hide," her strokes were steadily picking up pace, and I started
pushing my cock into her fist with every thrust

"What a sight she'd see: you, her protector...helpless, bound, tied to
the hall light...pants down around your ankles, and me, her best friend,
holding your hard cock as you thrust into my grip...'helpless as a
schoolgirl'...That's what Jennifer says, right?" I was rocking my hips
hard and fast into her slippery grip, a breathy moan escaping my parted
lips with every stroke.

"Uh...uh...uh...uh..." I was starting to get noisy, and Heather shoved
the ripped boxers into my mouth. I turned my head to the side in shame
at my involuntary whimpering, but naked, gagged, tied, and exposed there
was nowhere to hide. Soon enough I was moaning again, but the boxers
had changed my sighs to quiet little squeaks from the back of my throat,
"Nngh...nngh...nngh...nngh."

"I don't know how you ever scored a gorgeous piece of ass like Jennifer;
she thinks her strong provider of a man would never let anything happen
to her, but I could go over there and take advantage of that sexy wife
of yours, and there's nothing you could do about it. You'd just have to
hang helpless from the wall with your pants around your ankles and your
little prick poking uselessly in the air."

"Nngh...nngh...nngh," I moaned as she continued to stroke me at a
maddeningly steady pace. I could feel the beginnings of a building
pressure as I approached the homestretch to orgasm, and drool was
beginning to form at the corner of my slack, boxer-gagged mouth.

"In fact," she added, "that makes me want to do something naughty," and
with that, her hand was suddenly gone as she took a step back. I was in
a tortured panic with my cock thrusting wildly in the air.

"Nnnnnnnngh," I whined like a spoiled princess into my wadded boxers; my
brow knotting needily over a set of desperately begging eyes.

"What is it, sweetie? You want more?" she asked with nurturing concern
in her voice.

"Nnnnn-Hnnnngh," was all I could manage as I nodded my head frantically.
My ass still flexed rhythmically, pushing that steel-hard rod into the
air.

"Oh, you do, do you? Oh, poor Nikki...how bad do you want it?" as she
spoke she glanced at Jennifer and then gave me a scheming look. I was
desperate and confused...what did she mean? God, oh, God, why won't she
come back and grab my cock?

"I'll tell you what, naughty little Nikki, I'll make you a deal." A
warning light went off in my head, but it was drowned out by an inner
monologue fueled by base desire: please, please, please, oh, fuck,
please, touch me, oh, God, Heather, touch me, oh please.

"If you ask me to leave, I'll go right now. You can untangle yourself
and no one will be the wiser. Most rational wives would absolutely call
what's happened so far 'cheating,' but she doesn't know, and maybe you
can take a little comfort in the fact that we didn't fuck. Hell, I only
touched you with my hand, and you didn't cum ...not yet at least."

I was squirming my hips in circles as a string of lubricant oozed from
my neglected, swollen tip and started swinging back and forth between my
knees in time with my gyrations.

"But... if I stay, I'm going to have a little fun with your wife." My
thrusting calmed down a notch, "But, even more than that: you've got to
ask me to do it."

I have to ask her to do it? To "have fun" with my wife? Or she leaves?

I looked at Jennifer. Asleep on the couch - she looked like an angel;
the top button of her blouse was unbuttoned, and the hint of a white
lacy bra was just barely visible along the edge of her open neckline.
Untouched by sun, her soft ivory breasts rose with each slow, deep
breath. Her honey-golden hair was splayed out on the pillow like a
flower. My wife.

"Well, Nikki?" Heather broke my trance. My body had finally settled
into stillness except for my engorged cock which twitched with each beat
of my heart; the string of pre-cum hanging from my tip had reached the
floor.

She slid her hand up the inside of my thigh and gently held my balls in
her warm hand. She slowly caressed them like Chinese meditation balls,
and I started to subtly rock my pelvis again as she moved in close to
whisper in my ear. Her face was inches from mine and I could feel her
breath on my cheek.

"The next thing I'm going to do is take your underwear out of your
mouth. After that happens I'm going to pick up my purse and walk out
the front door unless I hear something very specific from you." She
began to make light little circles on the tip of my cock with her other
index finger, smearing the slick fluid.

"If you can't convince me to stay then I'm gone...and don't beat around
the bush, sweetie; if you make me too mad I'll leave you strung up with
the door wide open on my way out." She pulled back to look me in the
eye, "Understand?"

I nodded, and she ran her slick hand down on my shaft again, and I
shuddered in relief. With her other hand she pulled the boxers out of
my mouth and dropped them on the floor. Except for her hand, she was
perfectly still, looking straight at me.

I was already panting again...I'd be moaning soon without the gag. I
knew what she wanted to hear, and I couldn't screw this up.

"H-Heather..." my voice sounded far away, as if coming from someone
else, "Heather, please..."

She raised her eyebrows expectantly...silently waiting. She wasn't
going to help me with this.

"Heather, please don't stop...please." She stopped moving her
hand...paused a beat then let go of me as she bent to pick up her purse.

"Oh God, Heather, please, wait." She shouldered the purse and stopped
for a second to shoot me a look off disappointment.

"Heather, I'll do anything." That brought a smirk of contempt and she
turned to walk towards the door. I glanced at my wife and back at
Heather as she moved across the living room. I was in a panic.

"Heather, wait..." I hesitated a moment, and so did she. "Wait...my
wife." Heather turned. I looked down at Jennifer. "Take my wife.
Take her." Heather had a look like she wasn't sure if I was being
sincere.

"Please, Heather, take her...do what you want with her. Just...just..."

"Just what, Nikki?" she mocked, "Just milk your load out? Is that it?
Is that what you're telling me?"

Heather dropped her purse and walked over to Jennifer. "Are you sure
about this, Nikki?"

"Yesss, please Heather, she's yours ...please." Heather knelt in front
of my wife and put her hands on the outsides of her bare calves. She
started to slide them up Jennifer's legs but stopped just short of the
hem of her skirt below her knee.

"I don't know, Nikki, maybe I should just go." God, she was cruel, "Are
you sure what I'm doing right now is okay?" She froze waiting.

"God, Heather, please..."Heather slid her hands up past my wife's knees
lightly running her fingers along the soft skin of the outside of her
thighs. Her skirt was sliding up as Heather's wrists pushed the hem
higher. At last, Heather had her hands on my wife's hips. Jennifer's
eyes were closed, but she was facing right towards me as she started to
breathe a little shallower. Her breasts were beginning to heave from
the lusty breathing as Heather gave Jennifer's hips a gentle squeeze.
From under the hem of her skirt I could just make out the edge of her
high-cut white lace underwear. Heather slid her hands around the curve
of my wife's hips to her lace-pantied behind. I noticed Jennifer's back
arching a tiny bit to press herself into Heather's hands which were now
kneading my wife's perfect ass. Heather looked hungrily up at me and
hooked her fingers around the waistband of the panties and pulled them
down and out from under her ass. As Heather slid the panties down
Jennifer's smooth legs, my wife...my sweet sleeping angel...my innocent,
vulnerable bride parted her pink lips and sighed a quiet little sigh of
womanly pleasure - pleasure from the touch of another woman.

Heather slipped the panties off her feet one at a time, and left her
skirt bunched up around her waist so I could see the smooth skin of her
exposed ass, hips, and legs. Heather stood up and walked over to me
with the panties in her hand.

"You disgust me," she scowled. "You'd ransom your own faithful wife for
what? In the hope I finish your handjob? Just so you can shoot your
cum on the floor? Is that it?" I opened my mouth to speak, but found I
was speechless, and she shoved the panties right in. "I don't want to
hear it, Nikki. You want me to do this? Fine, but we're doing this my
way...or more correctly, her way."

She grabbed my hard, slippery cock and started stroking the full length
of my shaft, from a firm grip around the base, up to a gentle caress of
her fingers on my tip and back down again quickly. Once again, my world
revolved around my own cock and the pleasures that emanated from it by
way of a single, slender hand. My eyes drifted shut. Heather added a
subtle twist in her motion, and soon I felt the pressure start to slowly
rise like mercury in a meat thermometer.

"Mmmgh" escaped through the lacy panties in my mouth.

Heather reached up with her other hand and freed my wrists from the
overhead light fixture.

"Keep your hands behind your head, slut," she ordered, and I obeyed;
then her hand moved to my balls, and she slowly guided me into the
living room, fondling my balls with one hand and stroking my cock with
the other. With my pants still around my ankles I hobbled forward until
I was standing behind the couch, my cock six inches above my wife's
beautiful face.

Heather changed positions so that she was behind me, reaching around my
waist to stroke my cock. Her other hand rested on my hip. She slid
that hand down across my ass to cup a cheek in her palm. She moved in
close behind me and roughly squeezed my ass. I felt her nose brush the
back of my neck and she whispered to me,"Spread your legs, angel."

I moved my feet as far apart as the pants around my ankles would allow,
and the hand on my ass slid between my thighs to caress my balls.

"You know Jennifer tells me everything," she spoke softly, still gently
touching the nape of my neck with her nose. She let go of my balls and
ran her fingertips up the backside of my scrotum until they tickled at
my engorged taint; waves of pleasure ran down my legs. "She told me
that you enjoyed a little ass-play. Is that right?" Once again my face
flushed and I dropped my head wishing I could hide.

The layers of betrayal were piled thick: Jennifer's betrayal of me by
sharing my most intimate and unguarded moment with Heather, my betrayal
of my devoted wife - selling her sanctity for my own immediate base
pleasure, and finally, my own body's betrayal, which continued to thrust
into Heather's hand, even as my heart ached with shame.

"Are we playing the silent game again, Nikki? I asked you a
question...do you like having someone toy with your ass?" I couldn't
say 'no' to her, but I couldn't bear for her to hear me say 'yes.' I
thrusted more desperately; I knew that if I could just cum then she
would lose her power over me and the spell would be broken, but she knew
what she was doing. She was in total control.

"Oh, poor Nikki, I've embarrassed you so much tonight," she cooed
soothingly into my ear, "Let's see if I can make this easier for you.
You don't have to say a word, just step out of those pants, baby." I
did as she asked, slipping out of the shoes as well.

"That's a good girl, now spread your legs wider for me, princess...there
you go." I had worn ankle socks with my sneakers, and now as I spread
my feet apart they made me somehow feel more exposed, bare naked from
the clothes wrapping my arms behind my head down to the white socks.

Her hand was still on my taint caressing the hidden part of my erection
between my balls and ass.

"Okay, baby, just like I said...'you don't have to say a word,' just
stick out that tight, sweet little behind of yours and I'll do the
rest."

Deep inside my mind, I was holding onto a small nugget of manly reserve,
a fortress of subconscious resistance in my head that let me know that
this was all just a game...a kinky game I was just playing along with to
get my rocks off with a beautiful woman - a masculine voice of denial
that told me that I could stop this at any moment if I wanted.

That little manly fortress melted like a pink snowball in hell as I
arched my back and presented my ass, the wanton posture of a slut in
heat. Heather ground her body against mine from behind and bent me over
further with a steady pressure from her full, sweatered tits against my
back. She was still giving me a reach-around and my gyrating hips were
rhythmically pressing into Heather's lap.

The hand behind my balls slid up to touch my back entrance, but unlike
my first time in the shower with Jennifer, I didn't squeal or flinch,
instead I pressed my ass against the pressure of Heather's thumb, which
began to slowly disappear inside me.

"Unnnnghmmm," I moaned as she slid her thumb to the hilt.

"Jesus, Nick, you have no shame," she spoke into my ear through a
sardonic smirk, "Is this what Jennifer did?" with that she let go of my
cock, kneading behind my balls with the hand at my ass. My pecker
bounced in the air as I rocked my hips which helped her to slide her
thumb in and out of me.

At first, the lack of stimulation on my cock was frustrating, but as the
thumb-plunging and fingertip-kneading continued I was thrusting my
pelvis in the air less and less and jamming my hips back into her more
and more.

Heather reached her free hand around my waist to Jennifer; she began
unbuttoning my wife's blouse. I felt like I shouldn't be watching this,
but I couldn't look away. I was mesmerized as Heather finished
unbuttoning the blouse and pulled it completely open. The lacy white
bra fastened in the front, and Heather had her fingers on the release
when she paused.

"You want me to undo this, don't you? You want me to expose her
breasts?"

It was a rhetorical question. I was a spectator at this point:
incapable of answering coherently as I arched my back and repeatedly
rammed my ass back on her thumb.

"You were soooo reluctant to let me touch her at first; what happened?
Change your mind?" She deftly twisted the fastener and the bra sprung
open. Jennifer's snow white breasts bounced free, and Heather was
immediately grabbing a handful of the soft, smooth flesh. No one but me
had touched her there for at least seven years, and the sight of it
compounded my feeling of degradation...and my feeling of pleasure.

I pushed back harder now; I somehow felt close to orgasm even though my
cock wasn't being touched, and the tip started drooling pre-cum again.

Heather was roughly groping one breast and then the other.

"Does it excite you to watch me play with Jennifer...to play with my
whore? That's what you've made her, Nikki....a whore."

My leg muscles started to tense up, and Heather could sense I was close.
She pinched one of Jennifer's nipples and a quiet, breathy moan escaped
her sleeping lips.

Now every muscle in my body was flexed hard in anticipation, waiting for
the dam to break and those waters of sweet release to come flooding
through my body.

"You know what I want, you little sissy; I want you to disgrace your
wife. Show me how pathetic you are by soiling your sleeping wife; soil
her beautiful face with your dirty load."

My breathing was ragged as my body tensed still further; Heather let go
of my wife's nipple and reached up to roughly pinch mine.

"You little bitch, you're going to do it aren't you? I can feel it.
You're unbelievable; you're actually going to humiliate Jennifer and
disgrace yourself. You'd sell your wife's ass to cum right now."

Then suddenly I felt it. At first like a distant echo - a tiny pulsing
started to grow deep in my ass. She could feel it around her thumb.

"That's it, honey, here it comes."

Next came my involuntary and surprisingly high-pitched moans, "Uhmmf,
Uhmmf, Uhmmf, Uhmmf," I squealed through the white lacy panties stuffed
in my mouth

"Cum for me, Nicole...let it all out."

I continued yelping girlishly as the pulsing in my ass spread down my
tense legs - then between my thighs to my balls and up my bobbing
drooling shaft. I thought I was already flexing my ass muscles as hard
as I could, but suddenly I squealed desperately as my cheeks clenched
like a vice around Heather's thumb, and my whole body started to buck as
my cock jerked and began to shoot streams of spunk again and again.

"That's a good girl, cum on your wife for me, baby."

"Uhmmf, Uhmmf, Uhmmf, Uhmmf," I cried as drool soaked the panties in my
mouth.

"It's not your fault, naughty little Nicole, my helpless little school
girl."

My orgasm wasn't half done when her words registered, and my face burned
red hot with humiliation, but no force on earth could stop my spasming
cock now. Hot jets of cum shamefully streaked across my sleeping wife's
face, landing in her golden hair, soft cheeks, and half-open mouth. My
most forceful contractions launched the hot stuff over her face and down
onto her neck and exposed breasts. I shuddered as my flexing ass and
cock eased and finally relaxed.

My cum slowly trickled down Jennifer's neck and breasts to pool in her
navel. She stirred slightly, unconsciously licking the pearly globs of
salty goo from her pink lips and then closing her mouth to swallow.

"Quite a cum slut isn't she, Nikki? She's even a whore in her
sleep...Though I guess I never would have learned that if you hadn't
bartered her body away."

I looked down at my dishonored wife. Her skirt was up around her waist
exposing her bare ass, her blouse and bra pulled open, her exposed
breasts covered in semen.

She whispered in my ear, "Thank you for letting me borrow your whore
wife, Nikki, it was fun."

I couldn't bear her words any more. I was already fighting back tears
and I mumbled a protest into the damp wadded panties.

"Hmmm? What was that?" she taunted as she pulled the lace underwear out
of my mouth.

"H-Heather...please-" and suddenly with her thumb and fingers she gave
my prostate a squeeze, and I shrieked one last time as a residual spurt
of cum landed across the bridge of my wife's nose.

She shoved the panties back in.

I was still holding my bound hands behind my head when she closed the
front door, and for a few minutes after that I was too humiliated to
move a muscle as I stood there sobbing into my wife's panties, my half-
limp cock resting in a growing puddle of cum on her cheek.