Wild Week chapter 5 (family fun)

CHAPTER 5 : Wednesday

Gayla got Bill out of bed by 7 the next morning, then went to wake the kids. Brianna was already in the shower and Billy was up also, getting his baseball uniform together when she knocked on his door. She went downstairs and made coffee, drinking a cup while making breakfast for them all. After eating, Bill kissed her good-bye, saying with a wink, “See you at about noon.” As he left the table, he squeezed Billy’s arm and said, “Good luck in your game, slugger.” Then he and Brianna were gone, leaving her alone with Billy.

She contemplated talking to him about yesterday, but couldn’t think of a way to begin. Finally, she decided to let it lie. She would talk to him later if he seemed troubled. Soon, he got up and went into the family room to watch MTV. Gayla cleaned up the breakfast dishes, then went up to pack Bill’s things. When she had it all ready to go, she moved the full suitcase down to the front door, and hung the garment bag containing his suits on the coat rack. He always complained that she packed too many things, but if he did it himself he invariably left something important behind. She went back to the bedroom and changed the sheets on the bed to the black satin ones she kept put away for special romantic occasions. She then went back down to the kitchen to have another cup of coffee and relax.

Billy went up at about 9:30 and got dressed in his uniform. He came down carrying his glove and cleats and said, “Mom, I’m going to meet some of the guys early. We’re going to take some batting practice before we leave.”

“Okay, dear,” she answered him. “Have a good time. I’ll see you tonight.”

After he had gone, she went upstairs and took a leisurely bath, shaving her legs and washing her hair. Getting out, she toweled herself dry, then put on her robe and stood at the mirror to blow-dry her hair and curl it with a curling iron. Moving into the bedroom, she sat at her vanity to do her make-up. She chose a jade green eye shadow with a heavy black eye-liner and mascara, then lightly rouged her cheekbones, and finally, chose a bright crimson lipstick. She considered her reflection a moment.

Satisfied, she sprayed on Bill’s favorite perfume, then went into the walk-in closet and retrieved the sexy lingerie she had bought last weekend and hidden from Bill. After putting on the flimsy garments, she stood before the full length mirror to judge the effect. Black stockings sheathed her legs to the upper thigh, held up by a frilly black garter belt. Her black panties tied at the sides, so they could be removed without unhooking the garters, and they were so sheer she could see the individual pubic hairs through them. Topping the outfit was a black lace half-bra that held her large breasts up and out yet left the nipples uncovered to jut forward invitingly. God damn sexy, she thought, pinching her nipples into hardness. Just one more touch, then she could pick out a dress to go over it.

She glanced over at the clock by the bed. Five minutes before eleven, plenty of time, she thought, and re-entered the closet, spinning her revolving shoe rack. She found her black leather pumps with the three inch stiletto heels and placed them on the floor, stepping into them carefully. She didn’t often wear high heels, so she was looking at her feet, concentrating on finding her balance when she emerged from the closet. When she looked up, there was a hulking figure standing in the doorway to the hall.

She let out a startled scream before recognizing Bill, standing there pointing a video camera at her. Putting a hand to her fluttering heart, she breathed a sigh of relief. “You nearly scared the life out of me.” A scolding look came over her face and she put her hands on her hips. “You’re early, mister. You weren’t supposed to be here for another hour.”

He grinned at her from behind the viewfinder. “I couldn’t wait,” he said. “Nice outfit.”

She smiled. “You like?” she asked. “You weren’t supposed to see it yet. Where did you get that camera?”

She struck a sexy, calendar girl pose as he answered, “Roger lent it to me.” Suddenly she froze when another figure entered the door to step past Bill. It was Roger, grinning from ear to ear. She had seen him many times over the years, of course, yet he had never mentioned their liaison, and never propositioned her again. She had often wondered if he even remembered it. He didn’t much resemble the Roger of thirteen years ago, the once lean figure now given way to a middle aged paunch and the wavy brown hair now just a flap combed over a shiny, bald pate. She stood frozen, staring at him mutely, her mouth hanging open. Finally she was spurred into action by another figure entering behind Bill, who had not moved. She whirled and snatched up her robe that she had left lying on the vanity’s seat. Clutching it to her chest, she turned back and saw a tall, gangly kid of about twenty standing behind Roger. He was at least six foot-three and had long, frizzy, mousy brown hair and a faint mustache the same color, and wore round, John Lennon-style glasses. He was not exactly skinny, but quite lean, wearing faded jeans and a green T-shirt. He looked like a hippie, she thought, and he had an eager look on his homely face.

She turned to Bill with a confused, questioning look. He continued filming and grinning, and said quietly, “I brought my army.”

A look of panic crept over her face as she realized what he was talking about, their playful banter the other morning. She started to make a run for the bathroom door, but didn’t get two steps before a man appeared in the doorway. When he stepped through, she immediately recognized Art Fielding, another co-worker of Bill’s whom she had known for years. He was in his mid-forties and built like a fire plug, short and wide, not fat, but thickly solid. He had short-cropped, sandy blonde hair, and his stoic features belied his timid nature. Like Roger, he was dressed in a suit and tie. Unlike Roger, who was still a bachelor, Art was married to a fat, Hispanic woman named Consuela, and they had six kids.

Turning back to Bill with a frightened look, she asked shakily, “Bill?”

From behind the camera, Bill said to her, “You remember Roger, Honey, and Art, of course. And this is Jimmy. He works in the mail room.” He chuckled, “But we all call him Holmes.”

Her mind couldn’t believe what was happening, as if it were a dream. She looked confused, and asked numbly, “Holmes?”

The kid piped up and said, “After John Holmes, the porno guy.” He leered at her.

It slowly dawned on her who he meant. She and Bill had seen movies with the actor, who had a huge cock. Her eyes were involuntarily drawn down to the crotch of his blue jeans, where she saw an immense bulge running down his pantleg. Her face turned beet red and her heart thudded heavily.

Roger stepped forward and snatched the robe from her. He had been waiting for this for thirteen years, for Bill to offer him another crack at his beautiful wife. He was an honorable man, in his own way. He would never make a play for a friend’s wife. Unless, of course, that friend asked him to. He had given up on a repeat long ago, but then, yesterday, Bill had suggested it, saying she liked to tease, make him beg. “Not that I don’t like it, mind you,” Bill had said to him, “I just think it’s high time I reciprocated.” Bill had admitted to fantasizing about having several men fuck his wife, and Roger had suggested Art, because he was in much the same situation that Bill had been thirteen years ago. His wife was fat, and a devout Catholic, keeping Art on a short leash. And he had suggested Holmes because everyone knew about the size of his tool and Roger wanted to see Gayla Ward take that monster cock. Also, he had talked Bill into videotaping the event, managing to persuade him to make an extra copy for Roger.

Gayla was trying in vain to cover her enormous breasts with crossed arms, backing away from him. “Hold her, Art,” Roger commanded, and Art came forward to grab her upper arms in a vise-like grip. Roger pulled the sash from the robe and moved around behind her, pulling her wrists back to tie behind her back.

Gayla was shaking like a leaf as Roger bound her hands. It was fear, yes, but it was also a nervous excitement building in her. With her arms tied back, her breasts were thrust out even more, and her exposed nipples stood out like miniature crimson cocks. Roger reached out and pulled on one, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, looking into her eyes. “Get her sitting in that chair,” he instructed the men, indicating the big easy chair in the far corner, next to a matching love seat. He then turned and walked into the bathroom. Art and Holmes maneuvered her backwards until she bumped her legs and fell into the soft chair.

In a few moments, Roger came out with a bowl of water, a towel, a wet washcloth, a razor, shaving cream, and a small pair of scissors. My God, she thought, they’re actually going to do it. He arranged the items on the floor in front of her, then removed his jacket and tie and knelt down in front of her. “Pull her legs up over the armrests,” he ordered. Art and Holmes, on either side of the chair, each grabbed a leg and pulled it over the armrest on his side. She tried to squirm away from them, but they were too strong, and soon her legs were spread wide, her bottom pulled forward to the edge of the cushion. Looking down between her widely splayed thighs, she could see her plump labia through the gossamer fabric of her panties, and she knew the men could as well. Roger reached out and untied the strings on her panties and pulled them off of her, her pussy now bare before them.

“Holy Shit!” Holmes exclaimed. “Will you look at how much hair this little lady has? God Damn!”

Again Gayla tried to squirm free, but it was no use. She felt a wave of sheer panic grab hold of her, starting to gasp for breath and trembling so violently her teeth started chattering. “Calm down, now,” Roger said gently, making eye contact. “Just take it easy. Everything’s gonna be just fine.” He began rubbing her thighs softly, running his smooth hands up and down the soft, sensitive flesh. Looking into his eyes, she felt a tiny spark of the fire that had consumed her that night so long ago, and the panic faded. He may not be the looker he was, but he still had something. He ran his hands lower and lower, eventually brushing across the edges of her muff, all the while mesmerizing her with his steady gaze. Before she realized it, he was running his fingers all through her bushy pubic hair, and she was starting to enjoy it.

Finally breaking eye contact but keeping one hand swirling through her tangled pubes, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out some little plastic bags and handed them to Art. He then reached down and found the scissors. Art, still holding her leg firmly with one strong hand, opened one of the little bags with his teeth and held it open for Roger. Roger lifted a thick tuft of hair and snipped it away with the scissors, dropping it into the baggie. He continued lifting and snipping, stuffing the hair into the bag, occasionally looking up into her eyes. When the bag had a goodly wad of hair, he took it from Art and sealed it, putting it in his pants pocket. He looked up into her now steady gaze and smiled. “Souvenir,” he explained. Gayla said nothing, just continued to watch. Meanwhile, Bill hovered over Roger’s shoulder, filming everything.

Gayla watched as her muff diminished, Roger snipping and snipping, until he had filled three more little baggies, giving one to each man, including Bill, and all the long pubes were cropped short. He put away the scissors and dipped his hand in the bowl of water, bringing it up to wet down the bristling stubble that was left on her mound. He then sprayed shaving cream into his palm and spread it all around her spread pussy and between her ass cheeks. He washed the rest off his hands and picked up the razor. He began shaving from the top down, in short, careful strokes, rinsing the razor in the bowl to clear it. He removed the little trail of hairs leading up to her navel with one swipe of the razor. He held her labia aside while he shaved down the sides of her vagina, then told the guys to pull her legs back further so he could shave around her asshole. When he was finished, he picked up the washcloth, which had been steaming hot, and laid it over the shaved area, holding it firmly in place. Gayla sighed with pleasure, it felt deliciously warm on her bare cunny and between the cheeks of her ass. After a few moments, he wiped away all the remaining shaving cream, pulling apart the folds of her labia to get every nook and cranny, then sat up to inspect his work.

Gayla looked at her bare, white pussy, the fat pink lips standing open like the petals of a flower, exposed as they had never before been. She was by now terribly excited, having a man who was not her husband touch her most intimate places, and being obscenely exposed in front of friend and stranger alike. She caught her breath when Roger leaned forward and kissed her soft inner thigh. He looked up at her to gauge her reaction, then kissed her again, a little lower, then lower again, continuing until he was right next to her vulva, then repeating the procedure down the other leg. With his lips poised an inch above her, he stuck out his pink tongue and touched it to her pouting pussy lips. She gasped as he traced her labia with feather light licks from the tip of his soft tongue, then slowly snaked it between her lips and into her hot tunnel, bringing his mouth down to cover her vulva. She writhed and moaned as he fucked her with his tongue, then reached up to spread her pussy with his fingers, pulling the skin back from her swollen purple clitoris, licking and sucking the sensitive button. “Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes,” she moaned, feeling her orgasm approaching, but just before she came, he pulled away. “Don’t stop!” she cried plaintively, writhing on the cushion. “Please don’t stop!”

Roger sat up, grinning at her, and began to remove his clothes. She looked up at the others, still holding her down. Art looked down on her hungrily, nearly drooling with lust, and Holmes grinned at her confidently, as if this situation was nothing new to him. When she caught his eye, Holmes reached down with one hand and began squeezing her breasts, kneading the soft flesh and pinching her nipples. She looked back to Roger as he rose and dropped his slacks and underwear, his erect, sickle-shaped penis bobbing free. Grabbing his cock in his hand, he knelt back down in front of her and rubbed the head up and down her wet slit and over her tingling clit. Then he pulled it back and said, “Beg for it. Tell me how much you want it.”

Gayla gasped, taken aback for a moment. Those were the same words she used with Bill when she teased him. She looked over to her husband, whom she had nearly forgotten, but he continued filming, saying nothing. Then she looked back to Roger, her need taking control of her. “Please, Roger,” she begged, “I want your cock in me. Please fuck me! Please!”

Roger placed the head of his hard cock at the opening of her yearning vagina and slowly pushed it in to her tight hole. Gayla whimpered as she watched his smooth shaft slide into her bald cunt, sinking in to the hilt before withdrawing slowly until only the tip of the head was inside, then plunging in again, setting up a steady stroking rhythm. She watched as her plump pussy lips clung to his prick as he withdrew and then rolled inward with each thrust. He increased the pace of his pumping cock, slamming it into her harder and harder, causing her heavy breasts to roll on her chest and her breath to come in ragged gasps. She moaned, “Oh yes, fuck me, Roger! Fuck me! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum, right nowww!” Her orgasm burst forth like a flood from a dam and she convulsed with waves of gratification as he pounded her pussy even faster.

When her orgasmic throes subsided, Roger stopped his thrusting and pulled his cock out of her, pulling her legs down off of the arms of the chair. She was surprised to note that the other two men were out in the middle of the room, starting to undress. She hadn’t noticed them let go of her legs and move away. Standing up between her spread thighs, Roger pulled her into an upright sitting position and grabbed her hair, guiding his prick into her willing mouth.

Gayla tasted her own pussy juice as she sucked his slick cock. With her hands still tied behind her, she let him guide her head with handfuls of her short red hair and pump his penis in and out of her sucking mouth, just as he had thirteen years before. Faster and faster he pumped as she sucked and slurped, until he cried out and shot hot cum into her mouth. She swallowed greedily as his spasming prick filled her mouth with spurt after spurt of hot spunk. When he finished, she licked his cock clean, looking up at his face. He gazed down at her intently for a several moments, then bent down, taking her face gently between his hands, and kissed her, deeply and passionately, his tongue intertwining with hers, heedless of the semen she had just swallowed. He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes again. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, then turned and crossed the room to the bathroom, picking up his underwear on the way.

Holmes and Art, now both naked, were walking toward her. Side by side, Holmes tall and thin, Art short and stocky, they reminded her of Abbot and Costello, and she began to giggle, but was sobered by the sight of their stiff cocks. Art’s was about six inches, although it looked shorter because it was so thick, shaped like a wedge, with a pointed head widening out to an incredibly thick base, probably as big around as it was long. Nearly his entire body was covered in thick sandy-blonde hair, making him look like a teddy bear. But it was Holmes’ over-sized organ that made her gasp in wonderment. It was over ten inches long and was almost as big around as a beer can, with an immense purple head and a scrotum underneath that was the size of a tennis ball. She could see why they had nicknamed him Holmes. Tearing her eyes away as they stopped in front of her, she looked up at them and asked huskily, “What did you boys have in mind?”

“We want to do you at the same time,” Holmes answered eagerly. “Him in your pussy and me in your ass.” As she doubtfully looked down at the size of his cock, he added, “Don’t worry, it’ll fit. My girl takes it all the time, and she loves it. And she’s just a little thing, too. Lots smaller than you.”

Gayla considered for a moment and they were afraid she was going to say no, but when she spoke, she only said, “Would one of you gentlemen care to untie me?” They scrambled to comply, Holmes getting there first. When she was free, she stood and sashayed past them, walking over to the vanity. Feeling wantonly slutty, she stuck her garter belt-framed ass out exaggeratedly as she bent over to fix her smudged lipstick in the mirror.

When she finished and turned back around, Roger came back in through the door to the hall, wearing his underwear and carrying a six pack of beer in his hand. “Found this in the fridge,” he said. “You mind?”

Gayla laughed and said, “Help yourself.” You didn’t ask if you could cum in my mouth, but you ask if you can drink my beer, she thought wryly.

Roger smiled back and said, “Don’t mind if I do.” He went over and sat on the love seat, opening a bottle and taking a swig.

Strutting in her sexy lingerie and high heels, she walked over to the bed and pulled back the spread and top sheet. Turning back to Art and Holmes, who were still standing by the chair, she smiled slyly and called them over with a crooked finger. Breaking into huge smiles, they hurried over to her. She stepped up to Art, so close that her nipples pressed against his furry chest. With her high heels on, she was taller than him. She kissed him lightly on the lips, then gave him a rough shove, causing him to fall to his back on the bed. She reached over to open the drawer of the night stand by the bed and pulled out a tube of lubricant. Turning to Holmes, she handed him the tube and eyed his tremendous cock again, shaking her head skeptically. She touched it tentatively, stroking the foreskin back and forth. Her fingers did not reach all the way around it. She looked up at him and asked, “How old are you, anyway?”

He grinned down on her. “I turned nineteen last month,” he answered.

My God, she thought, he’s the same age as Brie. Looking down at his pole one more time, she said, “Wait until I tell you,” then turned back to the bed.

She climbed onto the bed and straddled Art’s thighs, reaching down to stroke his wedge-like prick into full hardness, and stuck her butt out toward Holmes. “Okay, grease me up,” she instructed him over her shoulder, “and use a lot.” She rubbed Art’s cock as Holmes smeared the lube between her cheeks, then stuck the opening of the tube directly into her puckered asshole and squeezed a good ounce of the slippery gel into her rectum. Withdrawing the tube, he slid his long, thin finger into the tight hole, swirling the lube and working it deep into her. She reached back and pushed his hand away, and said, “Now do that thing of yours.”

With Roger watching from the love seat, and Bill hovering around capturing everything on video, Gayla moved up and guided Art’s fat prick into her shaved snatch, groaning as her cunt was stretched wide by its girth. She slowly slid up and down on it a few times to get accustomed to its thickness, then leaned forward, lying atop Art’s chest, and took a shuddering breath. “Okay, do it,” she said hoarsely.

Holmes, with both hands full of greased dick, climbed onto the bed and also straddled Art’s thighs. Gayla felt the massive head of his cock slip between her ass cheeks to press firmly up against her anus. He leaned over her back, pushing forward with a slow, steady pressure. “Oh God!” Gayla groaned, wincing as the bludgeoning head slowly forced its way into her tight asshole, stretching it impossibly wide, Art’s thick wedge imbedded in her pussy making it even tighter. She ground her engorged clit into the base of Art’s cock, moaning, “Oh God! Oh God! I’m gonna cum already! Oh God! I’m gonna, gonna…Uuunnnnnggghhhh!” Just as the huge cockhead popped fully through her clenching sphincter, her orgasm exploded over her. She sank her teeth into Art’s shoulder as she rode the orgasmic waves, inch after inch of Holmes’ colossal cock sliding into her ass, filling her more fully than she had ever been before.

When her orgasm finally abated and she had recovered somewhat, Gayla levered her body up on hands and knees and began to ride up and down on Art’s wide dick, as Holmes began fucking her ass in incredibly long strokes. Art reached around behind her back to unhook her bra, and she pulled her arms out of the straps as he pulled it down, letting her hefty tits hang free. She increased her bouncing pace as Art squeezed her breasts together and lifted his head to lick and suck her stiff nipples and Holmes grabbed her undulating hips to pump harder and faster.

“Ooh, suck harder, Artie,” she urged. “And bite them. Bite my nipples! Harder!” She slammed her pussy down on his cock as fast as she could as he sucked and bit her 3/4 inch nipples, and Holmes drilled his mighty log into her bunghole. “Oh yes! Fuck me harder! Harder!” she screamed. “Fuck my pussy and my ass! My pussy and my ass!” Art bucked his hips up into her wildly and bit down brutally on her right nipple, grunting like an animal as he came, shooting his load into her wildly fucking pussy.

“AAIIEEEEEEEEEE!” Gayla’s banshee wail echoed throughout the house as the intense pain from her nipple and the hot flood of cum combined with the monster cock frenziedly fucking her asshole to trigger another, even more intense climax. Right at the peak of her orgasm, Holmes seized her shoulders and rammed his gigantic staff up her battered asshole to the hilt, shooting cum deep into her bowels, bowing her back as he ground his pelvis into her ass, trying to shove it even deeper. She thrashed wildly, shrieking at the top of her lungs as her orgasm redoubled in strength, seeming to go on and on until a black hole opened and swallowed her into its infinite depths.

When Gayla regained her senses, she didn’t know how long she had been out. She was lying alone on the sheet, face down. Groaning, she rolled over onto her back. Looking up, she saw Roger standing at the side of the bed, his erect penis in his hand. Grinning down at her, he asked, “Are you ready for round two?”

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ihtzan/wild_week_chapter_5_family_fun