Never Now Who You'll Meet...

I could hear the “bing-bong” of the doorbell as I depressed the white lighted plastic button. As faint as the sound was from my position standing outside the house, it startled my jangled nerves nonetheless. I had never done anything like this before, and my stomach was somewhere between butterflies and full-on nauseousness.

That door chime symbolized the passing of my last chance to turn back. The part of my mind that thought this was a bad idea had nothing to do now but futilely hope that no one was home; that they had forgotten about it, called it off, or chickened out.

What was this decision that had brought me here standing in front of a blocky red-brick duplex in suburban Chicago on a chilly autumn day with my gut in knots? I had simply answered a post on an on-line bulletin board.

The post read: ‘Seeking 10 swinging dicks for a much needed gang-bang for a dear under-sexed friend. She is a sexy MILF with great cans and a pressing need for more dick in her life. No druggies or STDs, and serious inquiries only please. Interested parties should send a PM with a photo of their stiff cock in hand to...’ It gave an anonymous email account, promised the utmost discretion, and solicited similar discretion from respondents.

After mulling it over for about a day, I snapped a photo of my member while in the handicapped stall of a men’s room at work. All that time, I expected someone to wander into the restroom and hear either me stroking my member to erection (things sound louder when you are freaking out) or the synthesized faux-shutter noise the camera on my phone makes. My choice of locale was the result of a well-thought paranoid internal monologue in consideration of a range of options. It came down to the fact that it was not a high-traffic place, and, importantly, the background was ubiquitous white tile and off-white linoleum. It was not as easy to get my manhood stroked to stiffness under the combination of the definitively asexual location and the nervous anticipation of getting caught. However, the latter proved useful as I began to ruminate about the possibility of the sweet Hispanic cleaning lady catching me in the act, and that thought did the trick. After finishing, I had to sit and wait for the erection to subside as I pushed out thoughts of Rosie. It was slow, but I didn’t want to run into anyone in the hall with a tent in my slacks.

I sent off the photo, and proceeded to check the email account I had given the poster of the ad, one I had set up just for this purpose, with irrational frequency over the next three days. By the fifth day I had just about forgotten about it, but I still remembered to check it once. That day there was solitary email in my inbox.

‘You have been selected to participate in our little gang-bang. Please come to 3815 Lambert St. at 6:30pm Friday November 13, 2009. We request your discretion, and will reciprocate. We reserve the right to rescind this offer, which is based on your claim of being disease and drug-free and our expectation that you will comport yourself as a gentleman. At the door, please say you are here for Mrs. Jones’ party, so we’ll know you are invited and not an encyclopedia salesman, the zoning inspector, or a Seventh Day Adventist- we once invited some Mormons in by mistake, and they were scarred for eternity.’

It was three days away. I tried to figure out how I could attend without arousing the suspicions of my wife. I sometimes worked late, often not getting home until 8:30pm, but almost never on a Friday. On Fridays I tried to be out of the office by 5:00pm at the latest. I was, of course, a little more paranoid than I would have been if I were trying to come up with a cover for going shopping for an anniversary gift, and the rational part of my mind said that a deadline at work was the perfect alibi. I got a serendipitous break, however, when Charlene, my wife, asked if I had any problem with her going with her friend from work Kristin to try to knock out some holiday shopping after work that Friday. Like almost all of Charlene’s coworkers, I had never met Kristin, but, unlike most, Charlene spoke about her all the time. I was just glad that she would have someone with her, as I might worry if she were out in the city alone while I was off cavorting.

As the days past, I alternated between being wired with the thrill of a great new adventure and being wracked by guilt. I feebly tried to rationalize my planned infidelity. Part of me even tried to blame Charlene. I was doing this, after all, because sex with Charlene had become progressively less frequent and more banal, and I was driven to experience sex as something new and exhilarating. Perhaps, I was drawn like a moth to flame. Ultimately, however, I knew that it was not Charlene’s fault any more than it was mine. Both of us were constantly busy, mostly exhausted, and just too deep in our rut of familiarity. I further rationalized that the experiences I had would make me a better lover for Charlene, but that seemed to wring hallow as well. I was on the verge of dropping the whole thing on several occasions, but the feeling of my heart thumping in my chest made me feel more alive than I had in years, and that was a powerful aphrodisiac.

So there I was standing in front of a door that half of me wished wouldn’t open and half of me wanted to tear down. Soon the heavy wooden door did open rattling the knocker that was affixed to its front, but I could only see the figure on the other side as an amorphous shape due to a layer of condensate on the plexiglas of the storm door. Then the storm door opened enough that I could see about half of the woman answering the door. She was in her thirties, and had long straight jet black hair reminiscent of that of a Chinese girl, but her facial features were not Asian - though her body, except for its height, also reminded me of an Asian woman. That is to say, she was trim with small mounded titties and limbs that might seem gracefully slight or frail depending upon one’s perspective. She wore a loose floral pattern gown that looked comfortable, and, relevant to the activities at hand, easy to get on and off, but the wind from the outside pushed the soft fabric up against her torso and it conformed to her petite shape.

She smiled warmly and said: “What can I do for you?”

“I... I’m here for Mrs. Jone’s party.” I said, almost forgetting the line.

“Well come on in. Glad you could make it.” She said while opening the door wider. She was not a native Chicagoan. Her accent had a trace of Southern drawl in it.

I closed the door behind me giving it a good shove to overcome the tight weather-stripping. I next took my shoes off and lined them up with an accumulation of others near the door.

“Are you Mrs. Jones?” I asked. I wouldn’t mind if she were. While, being tall, dark, and lean, she was not precisely what you would call “my type”, she was nonetheless an attractive woman.

“No. She’s in the other room. Let me show you where we’re at.” She took my hand in an unexpectedly intimate act and led me through the darkened and vacant living room toward a doorway into a brighter room that seemed to be the nexus of activity in the house. “They’re getting warmed up. Strip however much you want..., well definitely from the waist down, and join the party.” With that my guide walked into the room and began passionately kissing a man who had been just standing around stroking himself as he watched the main attraction.

At the center of a large oval woven rug that filled most of the room an athletic man was standing naked and getting sucked off by the presumed Mrs. Jones, whose back was to me as I entered the room. My heart skipped a beat as I noted that the also naked Mrs. Jones was exactly my type. She was buxom and curvaceous, and had a stylishly coiffured short full-bodied head of strawberry-blond hair. She sucked cock with gusto. As I stood there stunned, having stopped in the middle of unzipping my trousers, the dawning realization hit me like a lightening bolt that she was so much my type because, in point of fact, she was my wife. At first glance I thought she looked like Charlene, but I assumed it was just a coincidental resemblance in conjunction, perhaps, with my guilty mind playing tricks on me. But a close observation left no doubt, it was Charlene down to the dark mole on the small of her back.

My heart was thumping in my chest and my temples. I experienced a rash of emotions. While I had no moral high-ground for it, part of me was angry and felt betrayed. Part of me was terrified that I would soon be discovered in my own transgression. ‘Had she done this before?’ ‘Would she believe that I had never done it before?’ Those thoughts raced through my head, but were pushed aside by a yet more intense feeling - that of uncontrollable horniness. There were six other men assembled, with possibly more to arrive, and all to have their way with my wife, and it made me more aroused than I had ever been in my life. I felt alive. A mundane life had been wearing me down, but this was completely thrilling.

Right then and there, I made one of the best decisions of my life. I did not bolt out of the house while my wife’s back was turned, but instead I dropped my pants and boxers to my ankles and stepped out of them.

Charlene was making a humming sound as she moaned with her mouth full of the athletic man’s member. He was, ironically, probably both the oldest and the most physically fit of any of the men in the room. The others stood on the periphery of the room stroking their hard-ons, watching the show, and biding their time. I approached Charlene from behind without drawing her attention because of her intense concentration in addition to her humming comingled with the man’s moans. I knelt behind her, and leaned in close to her ear.

“How’s the cock taste?” I said in an abrupt whisper.

Startled, she pulled away from the gray-haired man’s cock and nearly head-butted me in the check with the back of her skull in the process. As soon as she had withdrawn, she sputtered: “Robert, I... I’m sorry.”

Charlene was at the same place in her mind that I had been a moment ago when my zipper was in hand and my jaw was dropped open, but she was in a much more incriminating state. In retrospect sneaking up on her could have resulted in tragedy for the poor guy she was pleasuring, and it was a good thing she maintained enough presence of mind to not chomp down on his dick. On the other hand, she was just where I wanted her.

“Shhhh. You shouldn’t stop blowing a guy so suddenly. It’s a real downer.” As I said this I turned her head back around from its position craning over her shoulder to look at me, and her cheek bumped up against the side of the man’s erect member. Putting one hand gently under Charlene’s chin and the other at the back of her head, I guided her mouth back onto the man’s saliva-coated cock. She resumed sucking him off, though more hesitantly at first.

I maintained my position kneeling behind her, and reached around with my right hand to cup and fondle her right breast. Pressing my body against her, I resumed speaking in her ear. “God this is a turn on. If I’d known what an eager little cock-sucking whore you are, I’d be sticking my cock in your mouth constantly. Not to mention that I could have been promoted three times in the past year if I’d just have brought my boss home to get sucked off.” I shifted my position so that my rigid cock went between her legs. She spread her knees apart a little to let the top of my member rubbed on her wet slit.

My talk was clearly having an effect on her. She was hesitant no more, but was, rather, taking more of the man’s cock down her throat with each eager swallow. Her hair bouncing against my face felt soft and the familiar flowery and fruity scent of her shampoo was somehow an immense contributor to my arousal.

I could see the man’s muscles in his lower abs, waist, and thighs contract spastically and uncontrolled as he began explosively ejaculating into my wife’s mouth. He continued to thrust for several waves of release before he pulled out, and Charlene leaned forward to kiss the tightened skin of his scrotum. The gray-haired man backed away, and set himself down wearily on a towel covered sofa cushion.

By now another two guys had joined the group, which now consisted of nine men (including myself), my wife, and the other woman that I now guessed was Kristin. Kristin had just returned to the room, and was now only wearing panties, which led me to believe that her door-answering duties were over and that she intended to join the festivities.

Before the next guy could approach, Charlene turned, still on her knees, to face me. She began to kiss me passionately, and so caught up in the moment was I that I did not hesitate to open my mouth and explore hers with my tongue even after it dawned on me that her mouth was coated in the last fellow’s ejaculate. After a moment we came up for air, and Charlene, standing, guided me to my feet.

Taking me arm-in-arm, Charlene led me over to Kristin. “I assume that you two have met.” Charlene said, obviously having drawn the logical conclusion that Kristin had specifically invited me.

However, Kristin looked a little dumbfounded, and only I knew the truth that would become patently obvious to all momentarily - that this was all a one in a million coincidence. “Yeah, at the door, but we were not properly introduced.” Kristin said, eyeing me as if she was supposed to know me but didn’t.

Now it was Charlene’s turn to be confused. “Well then... let me introduce you. Robert this is my friend Kristin, and Kristin this is my husband Robert.” Charlene said looking over at me.

“OK, I didn’t know I was coming to your gang-bang, but you clearly didn’t know that I would be participating. I suggest we let bygones be bygones, save our mea culpas for later, and have some fun while you’re still soaking wet and I’m still hard as a rock.” A smile broke across Charlene’s, previously grimaced, face.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Robert.” Kristen said. “I thought we would meet one of these days. I didn’t expect that I’d be staring at your boner within ten minutes of first sight, but I bet you didn’t expect me to be topless either, did you.” She continued. Kristin was one of those bubbly energetic people that I suspected was without filters would unabashedly say the first thing that crossed her mind.

Kristin continued. “I see it gets you off to see eight other guys ready to blow their loads in, on, and all over your wife... oh, not to mention one woman who’s hot for her too.” To punctuate this addendum she stepped forward and leaned in to simultaneously suck one of my wife’s nipples while roughly tweaking the nipple of Charlene’s other large orb.

After breaking off her tit-worship of my wife, Kristin yet continued again. “Don’t worry stud, I’m not all about the ladies.” As she said this she turned to me and wrapped an arm around my waist. “I think if Charlene gets nine dicks tonight it’s only fair that you get to try another pussy on for size. And maybe you’ll get to try another ass to boot.” She whispered the anal proposal with the back of her hand held up beside her mouth in a gesture of mock confidentiality. With that she turned her head to look at Charlene, who gave her the nod. Seeing this, Kristin turned back and began to kiss me on the lips and to probe my mouth with her tongue.

As she broke away Kristin smacked me on my bare ass and said: “Hey sport, d’ ya know you taste like jizz?”

And there it was, that complete diarrhea of the mouth that a person could find infuriating and endearing at once. At the time, however, it was unambiguously annoying because I had hoped to avoid drawing attention to the fact that I had taken sloppy seconds with my wife’s mouth. However, when you do for a fellow what Kristin did for me that night, all is soon not only forgiven but forgotten.

“All aboard. Choo-Choo.” Kristin said as she lay down on a couch, spread her legs, and tilted her chin up to indicate that she was open for a cock or balls in her mouth. All of the guys lurched at once, but then there was a dead space as all politely deferred.

“Go make friends.” Charlene said, pushing me in Kristin’s direction. I complied without hesitation, and kneeled down rubbing my cockhead down Kristin’s wet slit a few times before plunging in to her surprisingly tight soaking box. Before I knew it there was a guy pushing his cock into Kristin’s mouth.

I looked over my shoulder to see my wife was looking back at me, but was leading two men by the dicks to the center of the rug. Charlene went down on her hands and knees, and the men needed no direction to figure out who would take her in the mouth and who would fuck her pussy. They eased into it at first, but soon were taking long deep thrusts to fill her from both ends. The man in her pussy was well-endowed in length, and Charlene struggled to, but succeeded in, keeping a rhythm in blowing the other man.

Shortly, I was on the verge of blowing my load, but it was too soon. I wanted this party to last as long as I could. I, therefore, did the honorable thing and pulled out to let another man dig into Kristin’s hot little pussy. A guy that Kristin had been stroking with her free hand took to her pussy, and I sucked her tiny titties for a moment while there was a trade off of dick at her mouth.

My wife was transitioning from a doggy position to her back after the man fucking her pussy had blown his load into her, and I took advantage of the movement to stick my dick in her mouth. I looked behind me and was put at ease about my inadvertent tasting of another man’s cum. The gray-haired man was sucking my wife’s pussy intently, and seemed oblivious to the face full of cream he was developing.

It seemed all too soon that everyone was either spent or incapable of holding out much further. Kristin said, “We’ve got to do one more thing. Charlie needs some DP lovin’, but first I’ve got to show her the way. She’s a little nervous.” I realized that Kristin was calling my wife Charlie. Charlene had told me on our first date that she didn’t particularly like the nick-name, but Kristin was the type that was all the more likely to call you by a nickname that got your goat, so I suspected Charlene had given up correcting her - if she had ever tried to in the first place.

“Robbie, get over here.” This time Kristin was apparently referring to me, as no one else moved in response to “Robbie”. Even as a boy, I had never gone by the name Robbie. “I told you I’d give you a little anal lovin’.” Kristin guided me into a reclined position on the couch. She then slathered some lube on my cock, the tube for which she had prepositioned on the end table. Then, squatting over my member, she dropped her weight to allow my rod to penetrate her tight sphincter. She leaned back writhing and moaning as she enjoyed the feeling of my cock in her ass. Her long hair hung down onto my chest, and I enjoyed its fragrance as an occasional pleasant distraction during those instants when her tight ass constricted intensely on my member. She beckoned over a young man who I didn’t believe had cum yet. The man obediently began thrusting away in her pussy. I had seen double penetration in porn movies, but never imagined being a participant. The idea of bumping balls with another guy was not a big turn on for me, but once one felt the exquisite pleasure of it the little hang-ups vanished. I blew my load in Kristin’s ass and my spasms seemed to last twice as long as usual. Soon the other fellow filled Kristin’s pussy with the cum that he seemed to have been holding back with great effort, and we awkwardly broke apart to assume the more comfortable position of spectators.

Now it was Charlene’s turn. The gray-haired man lay on his back and let his cock be engulfed by my wife’s butt. Other men cycled through taking her pussy for a little while, then letting another have his turn. The others had all cum at least once already and were able to enjoy themselves for extended periods. Kristin and I took up position on either side of my wife, and each took a nipple in our mouths. My wife climaxed before the men, but her quaking spasms sent the grey-haired man over the edge. The other man pulled out of her pussy and began to stroke his member. A few others were as well, and they all eventually came over my wife’s stomach and chest - though mostly weakly having expended themselves earlier.