What The Hells Happening Ch 08 09

Are you still with us... Probably not... Perhaps you'd just like to skip forward to chapter 14 and find out What the hell's happening. Anyway here's chapters 8 & 9. Cheers, Arch.

PS. Excuse the editing, still struggling with it on my own... for obvious reasons.

*****

8. IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA...

I knocked on the door with breakfast.

"Uhh... come in!" My wife called sounding somewhat breathless.

I almost dreaded opening the door. When I did enter, regret was confirmed. My wife was riding on top of her lover, but facing the door, like a reverse saddled cowgirl. Her lovely breasts bounced rhythmically, like two perfect balloons set to some unheard jungle drum beat.

"Good morning baby!" She chirped. "Oh, aren't you just wonderful, you bought us breakfast! Come and give me a smooch." She grinned up at me playful, not altering her rhythm. It appeared that the worries of that dark day last week were momentarily forgotten. I placed the tray of coffee and croissants and leaned in to complete my 'smooch'. She offered her cheek as always and my puckered lips slopped wetness from chin to eye socket as she continued to bounce and moan. "Thank you darling, now we need a bit of privacy. We'll be down right after our shower."

I left the lovers to their now regular wake up fuck and wandered down to the mail box. It was a nice morning and the brightly lit sparkling pleasure radiating from my beautiful wife's eyes had warmed my innards. She loved that big cock and my acceptance now strangely pleased me.

The entirety of the mail consisted of three letters, each addressed separately to the three of us and imprinted on studio 4 stationary. Obviously they knew Matt was staying here. I walked back into the house examining my letter. I feared the worst. My wife continuing cries of orgasm seemed strangely distant because I knew I was now unemployed and that realization seemed to take precedence. When the sounds of the shower eventuated I decided to get the twins up and make them breakfast. They seemed as excited by the new day as ever, their innocence oblivious to the thunder rolling in.

"Hey babies!" Rebecca skipped in looking bright and freshly satisfied. She kissed each of her 'babies' on the cheek, careful to avoid their sticky little wet sloppy mouths. I likewise received a cheek peck. Matt wandered in and poured two more coffees. Unlike my bubbly wife he looked utterly fucked! He glanced up at me and shook his weary head. I grinned; poor bastard. My little wife was killing him softly.

He noticed the letters. "What's this?" His eyes told me he knew.

"I haven't opened mine yet. Thought I'd wait for you guys. But I have a pretty good idea..."

Of course our fears were realized. Within each letter lay our redundancy payments and letters of regret. The gossip and fallout from the murder were never going to allow further success of the show, let alone continuance. It had been cancelled by the network and we three, along with the rest of the cast and crew, were now benefit bound. I had scripts for six episodes completed and they were now headed for the shredder and recycle. I was likely the most affected because the payout was never going to compensate my lost endeavor, but it was Rebecca, sitting next to Matt and holding his hand, who sobbed, and I guess that was not unexpected. Matt cuddled her in close. She then extracted herself and toddled around to me and sat on my lap and hugged me tight. It was a defining moment. My wife had sought me out as her comforter, not seeking out her lover. She'd returned to her rock and that warmed me! I kissed her forehead, but my brain and hence my body, seemed unsure of just how to react to this intimacy. It felt like I was encroaching on Matt's girl!

"What are we going to do honey, I don't have any current job offers and this fiasco will likely spoil all chance of another acting role. Hell, the newspapers are hinting that I was the 'other woman'! I hardly even knew David, other than on set." She sobbed. "We're really screwed aren't we?"

"Hey, we'll be okay. We've all got talent, and sooner or later we'll find work again." I hoped sooner because my mortgage was not going away, and I did not have much in the way of reserves.

"Hey bro, would it be cool with you if I gave up my place. The rents a bitch and I'll have to let it go. I could help out here for a bit with finances and such, until at least I get another job and all." Matt actually appeared a little lost, and that was certainly a first!

"Yeah sure man, we need to help each other through this storm. I'm sure Rebecca would be good with that?" I smiled down at my wife's teary face that had suddenly transformed to 'giddy'.

"Oh, thank you beautiful. That would be just perfect, but just for a short while; just until Matty gets a job, or maybe until Christmas." She kissed excitedly all over my face, careful to avoid my lips, even though I angled about chasing hers unsuccessfully. "Now Matty can keep fucking me any time he likes! Oooh, this is so wonderful!" Of course she giggled. God she was beautiful.

It suddenly dawned on me just then that it was only February!

****

Life at our place settled for a bit, but the looming dread of bankruptcy kept creeping closer.

The twins were in bed and it was about 9 pm. The kids were long tucked in bed and Matt was currently fucking Rebecca hard over the arm of the couch whilst I was trying to watch Game of Thrones. She was fully dressed, because it now seemed a 'requirement' that I was not to be privy to seeing her naked, or partly naked... or even slightly naked! She had simply been bent over by her lover, dress lifted and just taken! I tried not to watch, honest, but in the TV screen's reflection I could see her panties stretched between her knees. Her ooh's and aah's were really distracting and it was pissing me off! The only saving grace was that I might be allowed 'comfort' her after they'd finished so I simmered in anticipation while the White Walker charge on the Night's Watch raged before me and the conquering of my Rebecca played out behind.

Then the bloody phone rang.

I got it... the others were currently engaged!

"Hey Kev!"

The voice sounded familiar.

"It's Barry Berkshire mate." Oh yeah, Barry our old director. "Hey how you guys travellin?" He asked like he was fishing for info.

"Not good Barry, neither of us can get a break. But we're still hopeful." I turned to my moaning wife and indicated with a finger to pursed lips to keep it down. That proved fruitless because even though she acknowledged me with a nod, Matt just started fucking her all the harder!

"Well old cobber, I can't land nothin neither. I got a few buddies in the industry, and some left over crew includin Sally Fielding, in makeup. I was hopin you might write me a script. We could go into production on the cheap, possibly use my place as the set. I got cameras and lighting. Sammy Silverman will do the sound, so watta you say pal?"

"Hang on Barry, what the hell is the story line? Shit, I can't commit until I know what the plan is! What sort of direction are you envisaging? I have no concept what to write unless I know more about this 'idea' and who exactly will be acting in it?"

"Okay yeah, sorry pal. I want your missus and Matt, they've got real chemistry together."

If only he knew. I glanced back over at the 'chemistry'. The female half, my adorable wife, was on her back hung up over the armrest now, legs flaying about over her lover's shoulders whilst having the living daylights fucked out of her. I realized Barry was still gabbing.

"I thought you might play a part too, but it's only secondary, and it would give you a chance to direct as well. I want to do more of the production stuff, so you'd be the writer, director and actor. You'd get 30% of the profit cut, 15% to the missus and Matt respectively and I get 40 and out of that I cover all my costs includin the crew's wages. How's that sound man?"

"Okay, but what the hell is the story line, and who's the target audience?"

"Well, where's the biggest money to be made out there mate? And no, we don't have a block buster budget!" He paused expecting me to know! "Porn man, that audience is like huge and untapped. With all of the direct internet streamin now, we can set up a pay to view channel, stream nonstop porn, or porn on demand and if our product is classy and hot, well written and acted, we'll make a killin... shit bad analogy... given what got us here... sorry man!"

"No, that's okay Barry. It's been tough... So you want me to write porn, act in the production, encourage my wife and her... and Matt... to get 'involved' and just say okay?" I paused for effect. "Are you freaking nuts!!?"

"Hey man, think of the possibilities. Have you ever watched porn? It's shit man. Old slutty lookin actresses spreading there varicose veined legs to twelve inch cocks and goin 'oh ah'. It's crap mate! What if we open up a new market, with fresh beautiful actors who can actually act? We write an artistic clever story line, we film more faces than fannies, insinuate sex instead of just pannin in for the close up of rod A inserted in cunt C. Eroticism is brain induced man. People want to imagine what may or may not be happenin. Of course we'll have plenty of money shots, but it will be the anticipation of the shot rather than have it be constantly thrust in your face. Do you get my drift mate?"

The mad bastard actually made sense. Porn was awful. People wanted sex, but I considered crap porn as crude and unacceptable. Yes it did the 'job' but there was nothing sexy about it. But mix in a quantity of artistic merit, add a pinch of professionalism and cap that with some actually talented actors, and you might just stumble onto a hit. Game of thrones had started a TV trend. Of course the story line had to stand up, and I trusted my talents in that regard. I thought back to some of the classics, like the 'Story of O'. Love or hate it, it had artistic value. It kept you watching it and even today, it is still watched by thousands. Who the hell ever bothers to re-watch a sorry porn flick... after you've watched five minutes of some spotty broiler been banged up close? Yuk! You never re-watch it...

"Okay, what you say makes sense, but I don't think my wife or Matt are gunna want to be porn stars!" Shit, how could I possibly be involved in that train wreck? I glanced over at the copulating lovers.

Matt was holding my wife's legs above his head and her bum was clear of the seat as he danced her on the end of his cock like a rag marionette.

"Do you honestly expect me to write a pornographic story line and then have my own wife and her ex-leading man act that out...?"

"Yeah, it would be cool man. They have great rapport. Most of it would be simulated, we'd just need a few shots of them fucking up close... and like some cock sucking and stuff, but mostly it would be artistic..."

I had a feeling that even he was struggling with the justification. I watched as Matt unloaded deep inside my wife, her hand covering her mouth in a desperate effort not to scream. Matt's face was puckered in agony as his teeth ground.

"Okay man, sounds like a plan. I'll see if I can sell it to the others."

"Cool pal, talk later..."

I fixed me a jack, and smiled. The more I thought about this outrageous plan, the more I smirked. I was borderline chuckling when I entered the lounge room. I mean, I was a cuckold now, and I had actually grown fond of the term. Perhaps subliminal denial still chewed the parameters, but hey! This crazed idea would play right into my cuckold desires quite nicely. Under the pretense of writing a porn story, and having my wife and her lover actually fuck in front of me, and while I excitedly directed the debauchery, I could sneakily present the 'illusion' as classy artistic pornography! Well, that worked for me! And I had a feeling that the lovers would jump at the chance to fuck like rabbits for a captive audience as well!

"Who was on the phone darling?" My 'darling' chirped, delving about under her little skirt mopping up the dripping residue with a bunched up tissue. Matt was sprawled out on the couch with his flaccid appendage exposed and it looked every bit like a slug subjected to a blow torch. Think 'shriveled and fried'. Its owner appeared to have fared even worse!

I had to formulate a softly-softly approach to sell this outrageous shit.

"It was bloody Barry. He rang to suggest some crazed idea that we help him produce 'arty' porn and sell it as pay to view." I laughed feigning the ridiculousness of the proposal. "He wants you and Matt as the stars! Thinks you have a great rapport and expects you to fuck like bunnies every day and make us all a fortune! Fucking crazy as a bat, that bloody Barry!" I chuckled and sat.

Honey's eyes were wide... like saucer dimensional!

"Really?"

"Yeah, the mad bastard; fancy thinking you guys would go for that fucked up shit." Another laugh escaped me. Hey, maybe I was an okay actor!? "Fucking each other's brains out every day in front of camera's and crew and then selling that hot shit for copious spondoola on the internet." I tutted, sipped my scotch and smiled into the glass as I watched the wheels in my pretty wife's head select overdrive.

"Well, maybe it's not so crazy. I mean, we... us," She indicated the sleepy Matt. "We kind of fuck all day now anyway. If we did it and earned money, like that would help us out; right?"

"Yeah, I see your point, but honey you'd have to ride his big cock for hours and just think of all those people watching!" I had the little slut. She was twisting like a worm on my hook.

"Um, I could do it if you want me too?" She pouted.

Nice try. Yeah, turn it on me; make it my decision when you want nothing more than to bounce on that huge pole all day! I knew the exhibitionist within.

"I don't think so honey. It would be just too demeaning for you and..."

"I wouldn't mind really sweetie. What did you tell Barry? Did you say we'd discuss it? Is he going to find someone else? We should ring him right back and tell him we'll do it honey. This is a real opportunity!" She ran at me and hugged me. I cuddled my little sexy minx in tight. Got you my little fishy!

****

We met Barry, the motley crew and the ragamuffin cast of extras, who were mostly adventurous college kids looking for a bit of back pocket cash. Of course Barry only selected the cuties and the guys who could perform. When I say perform, I mean get it up on command and stay semi controlled. He told me that he'd selected his female group, and then turned them back on the possible boy candidates and instructing the girls to perform blow jobs. Five guys made it through the five minute barrier and now had supporting roles. He laughed when he said the competition was 'stiff'. Barry was one of those idiots that roared at his own jokes. He looked and sounded like Dick Dastardly out of Wacky Races; no further description required.

"So, Barry, what do think the story line should be?" I needed some input.

He explained that the story would be contained within a large opulent home, gardens and swimming pool. Yes Barry's place was pretty cool! So I imagined some soap opera kind of format revolving around the three central characters. The extras would be used to expand and evolve different story lines and episodes.

We were together now, just the seven of us; me, Barry, Becky, Matt, Beck's friend Sally the makeup person, Sammy the sound guy and Iggy, (Ignatius Indianapolis Eisenhower the second. True, cross my heart!)... the chief cameraman.

"Kevvy, I been thinkin. The new hot craze around at the moment is this kinky shit where like you have this hottie wife who basically has sex with anyone she wants but with her husband's total approval, if you can believe it!" He laughed heartily. I cringed and I noticed Rebecca blushed. He stopped cackling himself when he realized everyone else was stone dead silent.

"Um, eh, well, so I been thinkin that you could write this really kinky tale about a hot wife, our Rebecca here, fuckin other men but with her husband's full approval. It's called 'cuckoldin' and you might want to look it up on the net to get a handle on it. There are a lot of, like, rules and strategies and shit, so you might need to do a bit of homework. We need to get the kink right or we'll get all these rubber people and whatnot kickin our asses over authenticity. I'll trust you to get it accurate man." He thumped my jelly arm. Oh god... "So we have you (yes he nodded to me) as this poor pathetic wimp husband. Now you won't get to perform any sex scenes, so that will free you up to just work the script and direct and stuff. But Beck here, she will have sex with her boyfriend lover, young Matt, and other men... and women, because we want to involve all the lesbians too!" The silly bastard actually looked sincere. "So everyone gets to fuck her senseless at every opportunity, all the while her sissy husband is either watchin or wankin, while she's screwin everythin with a cock... or cunt! He, the husband, is in total acknowledgement that she's out runnin amok." He downed his beer looking very pleased with himself. Suddenly I felt nauseous. "So if you write this up real sexy and we do some artsy fartsy shit with the camera, and with you directin... and hey presto, instant greenbacks!" He slapped my back and I nearly choked. I checked the state of my wife and she was bouncing in her seat like a giddy school kid high on red jelly beans!

"So wot you guys think? Crazy hey!"

"Well, Barry, I don't think..." I started out.

"Yes. It sounds great Barry. We're all in!" My wife squealed a little too exuberantly.

And that was it... I would write a porn story staring my wife and her lover... and me. I would write each excruciating scene, and direct each horrific penetrating moment knowing everyone on set was witnessing my humiliating and public cuckolding. I didn't sleep that night, but the horror of my predicament was only secondary to the cause of my insomnia, because my wife's cries of fulfillment were almost continuous until dawn... when sheer exhaustion finally claimed her... or perhaps more accurately him.

My little slut was so giddy and was quite obviously extremely excited about her new career opportunity!

****

9. ARE YOU FEELIN LUCKY...

I showed my first script draft to Rebecca and she just laughed!

"Are you serious? You're supposed to be writing porn, not a sequel to Marry Poppins!' She giggled! "Listen to this, 'then Matt takes Becky into the bedroom and shuts the door. The camera pans onto Kevin's face and he seems anxious. He sits and waits, looking at the door. Time is shown to pass slowly. Finally the lovers exit the bedroom looking happy and sated...' What the...? This is supposed to be porn honey! She tore the page up and threw it in the bin! Now, I want to see what happens behind the closed door. The heroine and her lover are obviously going to have sex. She needs to be stripped slowly and erotically. He needs to command and control her. She will have to kneel and suck his big beautiful cock as the camera moves in for a full head shot. She'll lift the cock up gently and lick his big balls like a greedy kitten and then..." She had gone all dreamy before shaking her head and re-focusing."Do I have to write this for you?!" She frowned angrily. I shuffled uncomfortably. "And the pathetic husband should be shown wanking in desperate frustration... like in reality!"

Okay, I get it! I poured over my script late into the night. The sounds of hard sex emanating from the master bedroom drove me on. I was seething and angry. I feared my public humiliation and open cuckolding, so I had this perverted idea that I'd make them pay at the end of my hard typing fingers. My anger flowed onto the pages. 'He grabbed her beautiful hair, gripping it in his fist as he thrust her pretty head onto his massive throbbing cock'. (Yeah, a bit flowery, but hey, the masses love that shit). 'She was choking and gurgling on the huge shaft but Matt was oblivious to her floundering ministrations'. (The camera will move in close as she coughs and struggles to breathe. Drool and spittle will be hanging from her chin as he rams into her continuously... over and over.) 'Do you like that slut, well do ya slut? Come on, make my day...' 'Yes... yes, oh fuck, use me hard you bastard!!' She screams just before her pretty face is impaled once more. The camera will change to the husband Kevin, who is trying to peer under the bedroom door as he jacks off excitedly whist his slut wife is used like a worthless whore. Matt slaps her pretty face with is wet cock. 'Whose whore are you bitch?!!' 'I'm your whore Master!' The camera shows a close framed shot of her terrified face...