Forcing Her to Pay Their Bill

"I screwed up again, honey" I tried to explain to her.

The two guys working on our site, the young black guys, had opened up the plumbing system, the whole yard really, and then the check had bounced.

I knew she'd be pissed; I don't manage the money that well. The work had to be finished, but I wasn't sure what to do—but I had an idea.

It was only two nights before she'd told me she thought they'd been peaking in the window at her in the morning, as they started their working day and she showered for hers. I'd seen her that morning too, emerging from the shower, dewy and damp, white and tan, a tumble of her golden blonde locks flowing over her shoulders, lovely protuberances topped by cherry pink nipples just asking to be sucked, blonde/brown curly hair serving as the chest within which the true treasure lay

It might be she'd have been upset, but to my slight surprise she expressed a conflict: "I should make sure not to do that," she told me, "wouldn't want to flash them, but, I hope they enjoyed what they saw."

"They are cuties," she teased me, "and you've been traveling a lot. You know a woman has her needs."

I'd overheard the young guys talking that afternoon, about their own needs—wishing they had girls but bummed they don't, talking about whether they should go to the strip club this weekend, and then talking about that hottie they'd see naked recently. I didn't know if they were talking about my wife—but they might have been.

"So honey"—I started in again—"I have a crazy idea. What if instead of the money we owed them, we could do a swap—give them a treat?"

She looked at me completely confused—"what are you saying?'—and then blushed.

"I already gave them a little treat, remember?"

"I know, but we could make more of a show of it—they said they wanted to go to the strip club, maybe you could do a little show for them here. They're young guys—inexperienced, don't get to see women naked much."

"NO. Are you kidding me? I could never—I'd be way too shy—are you suggesting I should strip for money—what?"

"Honey, this is something we need to do—and I don't know what else to do. We can't leave the yard open like that."

She looked at me and sighed. "If we have to do it, we'll do what we need to do, but no touching."

"Of course," I said.

I went back out to the yard as she jumped into the shower and prepared some lingerie.

"So here's the deal—I can't pay you now, but I can give you something instead. What if my wife does a little dance for you—you know—like strips down to her underwear?"

I had hoped this'd be easy, but they had me over a barrel. "That'd be fine," they said—"but it has to be a bit more than underwear."

"Topless," one guy said.

I took a breath—this was going to be harder than I thought.

"And she has to touch herself," the other guy said.

"Yeah, she has to touch her pussy through her panties—really rub it, get herself excited."

"Oh, she'll be excited," I said to myself, looking again at these cute young black guys and remembering how excited she'd been when she caught them peaking. "But touching herself? She'll never agree to that," I thought.

I went back to her as she was getting dressed—and gulping down her third glass of wine of the afternoon, calming her nerves but also weakening her good judgment.

"So you know how you said no touching?"

She looked at me with a spark of concern, even anger.

"Well they insisted—but only touching yourself. That's ok, right?"

She was pissed—"how did you get us in this situation?" she muttered—and then looked at me: "I'm going to get you back for this."

I knew she would—I just didn't know how.

Together we went out, and I sat in a corner, as she stood in front of her favorite chair facing the two young guys on the couch. I was reminded how big they were in our little living room—well built, ropey muscles, a little bit sweaty, easy going tone, big smiles, sparkling eyes, excited about this treat.

The music went on, and she took another long gulp of wine before she began swaying to the beat of the throbbing music, and slipped off her blouse to a small applause. More. More. She smiled, and seemed to get into it a bit more, turning and showing us her butt in the tight jeans and running her hands up and down her thighs, inside and out, pinkening a bit in what I knew was her own growing excitement.

"Off with the pants," they called, and she unbuckled her buttons and slipped them down over her thighs, her panties catching a bit and riding down with them over the first few inches of sexy pubes until she caught them and pulled them back up.

"The panties stay on, is the deal we agreed on," she reminded her watchers.

She then turned to bend and then slip her pants off the rest of the way, now in bras and panties only, still swaying and the guttural rap beat of the music pounding, and as I looked closely it became clearer that her sheer panties were becoming sheerer by being damp, already.

She took a few more gulps of wine—I knew her, she was getting drunk by now, and I knew what happened to her when she got a bit too drunk, her inhibitions removed and her excitement in ascent.

She then asked if they wanted to see her breasts—and said with a naughty voice—"because I know you did already through the window, didn't you bad boys?"

Off came the bra and out came her beautiful tits—nipples engorged and hard, areolae flushed. She swayed a bit more, her breasts swaying with her, and then ran her hands up and down her sides, up to her chest, cupping her fleshiness and squeezing her nipples. I looked again at her panties—and I knew I was not alone, the eyes of the young guys seemed to be back and forth from her breasts to the enticing spot between her legs—and indeed they were getting wetter. "Damn she was really excited."

"Now the touching," they called out.

She looked again at me, with a flash that was hard to read: a bit of anger she had to do this for me, for us, for them; a bit of uncertainty about going through with it and where it would go.

I nodded to her, as if to say "yes, you got to do it, this was the deal, I'm sorry."

And so she sat, back, in her chair, leaning back, knees up, propped, and with a mix of reluctance and—there I see it—a bit of eagerness too, so divided she was—she closed her eyes and let her fingers snake down and into her panties and to her hungry slit and needy clit.

Then came the first of many things I hadn't expected, but perhaps I should have. What was first a pantomime, an act of touching herself, quickly, I could see, became real—her breathing changed, her ass squirming, her chest flushing.

The guys kept their eyes peeled on her and her writhing crotch, as if they'd lost the ability to blink. At first, perhaps because of her shyness and then embarrassment at excitement, her eyes remained closed— then she opened them to see if they were watching, and I could see, she opened them to look out at these hot young guys and take in their good looks.

Then she said, softly—"you want to see more, don't you?"

They nodded—and then came the real shocker—"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

The young guys had their big hard dicks out in a flash—Steve's huge, longer by mine perhaps by double, Doug's not as long but thicker still, and they began stroking slowly, in rhythm to her strokes and then her moans and her back arching.

This was more than I expected—this was not just going through the motions. Her eyes widened with the shock of seeing their dicks out, hard and tall, and she moaned louder and arched further and her fingers went from running up and down her slit and over her clit to reaching further, into her hole, her thighs damper now than a towel after a shower.

"Now your turn," she whispered to them, and they nodded eagerly, and she pulled her wet panties to the side and spread her legs further, giving them a full view of her swollen pink labia and engorged clit.

Reaching down she used two fingers to spread apart her shiny bright opening and allowing all watchers to see into her needy chasm. I was so excited watching all this I could barely breath, my dick so hard in my pants I thought it'd burst.

Looking now at Steve, deep into his eyes, back down to his monster dick, back into his eyes—"I bet you want to fuck me, don't you? You've probably only been with girls, and haven't fucked a woman before, a woman who can really show you how to fuck. I bet you want to fuck my pussy with that big dick of yours, don't you?"

Steve nodded and uttered a guttural deep throated agreement, disbelieving his good fortune.

"I don't know", she whispered, "I think you're too big for me, I don't think there's any way a dick that big couldn't ever fit into my tight little pussy, I think you're just too big, I just think it can't happen," she said.

Even as she was saying I could see her excitement rise even higher from the very act of imaging his dick as too big. "But," she said then, and the moment seemed to elongate, was I really hearing what I thought I was hearing—"but," and a long pause followed, "but if you want to try I want to try."

Steve didn't wait a second, as if afraid she'd change her mind—he was up at her in a flash, facing her as she leaned back in that chair, reaching down to her butt to get at her panties to pull them off of her. I saw her lift her ass up enough that he could pull them down swiftly, and then I saw his face drop to her snatch—so swollen, so damp, so enticing—for a hungry taste of her juices and saw his hands grab her ass, and probe, pull, poke, even began to penetrate her a bit in back—something I knew would only excited her further and perhaps generate an additional need before the day was done.

"No, no," she screamed, "I need your dick NOW, " pulling at his face and shoulders up her body.

He rose with her pulls, not resisting at all, bringing his dark broad shoulders up above her trembling much smaller much softer white body, descending to press her into her chair, reaching how with dark big black hands to grab her white inner things and press them apart, then grabbing his enormous cock to run it up and down her slick gash, moistening it to prepare to more easily penetrate.

"Oh god oh god oh god" she sighed, "I need it but I think you're too big."

"Easy babe," he said, and held his ebony mushroom shaped cock-head against her opening and began to push, slowly but firmly, as she spread her legs further and lifted her feet in the air, until that giant plum popped in, causing her to gasp, then scream, and then moan.

She then looked over at me, catching my eye—and said to me, "oh honey, he's so much bigger than you are."

I guess she was getting me back now.

For a short moment he stopped—his head mostly but not entirely inserted—as if stuck, as if perhaps he were too big, and held it there, letting her adjust, waiting for her to spread even wider and dampen even wetter, and then she said "please, please, more."

With a strong forceful, almost but not quite violent thrust he was in, in, in, all the way in, and she screamed "OH MY GOD," and then he was buried, all the way inside her, bottoming her out, balls against her ass, and again he waited, held himself embedded inside her.

It was amazing to look at them, their contrast, his dark, muscled and toned body, her white, supple softeness.

She looked again at me again, and said "oh honey, he fills me do deeply, I've never felt anything like this before," before saying to him, "now, now, now, fuck me please."

He pulled back his body, grabbed her legs by the inside of her knees, and pressed those knees to her chest, opening her up as much as she could be opened, giving her and Doug and me the best possible view of her pink furrow being penetrated and plowed by that black shaft, and then he began pumping, harder and faster.

With Steve now lifted up above her, she now had the access she needed to run her fingers to her clit, to frig herself hard as he fucked her harder, and together they quickly raced to their needed outcome—first she began to cum, hard, spasming, her body shaking, rising, and her pussy squeezing, clamping on his massive black dick as he continued pistonning in and out of her, but it was now too much for him and he began his own spasms to match, grunting, groaning, shooting his thick cum deep into her womb, splashing her insides, before pulling out with a jerk and shooting again, ejaculating thick white cum on her belly, into her pubes, along her slit.

He pulled off and she leaned back, letting her legs fall in slack, before rising back up and looking toward Doug, who'd been patiently waiting and watching, his dick tall and proud, as he jerked that black dick up and down—and I could see instantly its effect on her, her excitement coming right back to where it had been.

"I need you, but I need you in my ass Doug—are you going to fuck me in my ass? I bet you've never fucked a woman in the ass before—do you have any idea how tight it is going to be? I need you there, I need you in my ass" she said.

She rose quickly, taking his dick in her mouth and slobbering on it with all the spit she could muster before then rising again, turning to her hands and knees, her beautiful ass high in the air and her slit visible between her cheeks, and she reached into that slit and collected some of the cum and juices running through her thighs and applied them to her butt.

"Now—Fuck me now, I need it now in my ass."

Doug approached, hard and thick, and carefully pressed his cock head again her sweet back door rosebud, and she resumed her directions—"gently press, that's right, hold on, let me do this."

She reached back and concentrated on relaxing herself, enjoying giving him direction fr his first time, "now a little bit more, and push more."

I watched closely, as she looked back over her shoulder, and I could see her concentrate on relaxing herself and working him in—and indeed, as thick as his dark and long dick was, it was slowly entering her, and after another moment his massive cock head slipped into her little hole.

This was the hardest moment, he knew from experience, and he watched as she worked to manage the pain, her eyes rolling back in her head, a few tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes, her grunting as she tried to manage the feeling and the pressure, exhaling a deep throated "grrrrrrrrr."

I watched her manage the violation and the penetration that was at first so painful and then, through the combination of her relaxation and the sensations unleashed and the psychological feeling of being penetrated in that place, she transformed the pain and the pressure into overwhelming sensation of pleasure "ohgodohgodohgod, yes!"

Quickly the rest of his dick followed the head fully into her back side—she was fully impaled with his big thick black dick in her tight white ass. She reached back and pulled her cheeks apart—hold on a moment, and he did, and then, reasserting again, she said, now—"now start pumping me."

His hands on her hips, squeezing her ass, he withdrew and slammed back, and within another moment or two was pumping her ass deeply and strongly, and she began moaning, her head now dropping into her arms, "ohhhhhh, that is so good, pump me harder, fuck my ass, fuck my ass, FUCK my ASS!"

And he did, but he didn't last long, forty seconds, maybe sixty, before he began his final thrusts, deeply spurting his cum deep in her backside.

In a moment it was over; he withdrew and slipped out with a pop, she crumpled down again in her crouch, a bit embarrassed and glad to have the privacy as the two boys stood up and with a nod—a thank you—a withdrawal they were gone.

I went to her, and took her in my arms, and walked/carried her back to our bed.

"Thank you," I said—"you didn't have to do all that"—but she cut me off.

"No, thank you."

With a smile she laid down on our marital bed, still naked, and lifted her legs and let them slack open, giving me a sly grin and letting me enjoy her other grin, her gaping slash still swollen and reddened, her pubes matted and sticky, a few pearls of cum draining from her cunt.

"You want some of your own?" she asked.

"Of course," I said—and it wasn't long before I added my own spunk to what was there already.