Bob Wallace - Overeager orgy wife

She slipped into a pair of sandals and studied herself in the mirror. Combing her long fingers through her silky thick red hair she turned and strode confidently out of the bedroom. She approved what she saw.

Frank had finally made her realize she was a desirable woman. To make things even better, fucking his son, Jimmy, had shown her that even to a kid she was desirable. It was only Carl who disagreed with everyone. She knew this wasn't the kind of life she wanted. It would be a long time before she could forget about the way she had acted at the club: sucking Steve, then waiting like a tramp for his drummer friend to come out and fuck her.

She bounded down the stairs. Carl would be home soon, and a long long talk was warranted. They couldn't go on living like this: him tearing her down emotionally; her seeking satisfaction in other men; him searching for the fountain of youth in younger girls. It had to end.

She poured herself a drink, flipped on the stereo, and plopped down on the long sofa. The soft strands of a romantic song filled the room is she slowly sipped the liquor. She counted the times she and Carl had fucked on the living-room floor while the music played on and on too many to count.

She tried to crush his foot in the doorway. "Yes, my husband's home. You want to speak to him?" Her mouth was drawn tight in determination.

"I think she's lying," Steve winked. "What do you think, Fred?" He still kept his eyes on the luscious Barbara.

"I think maybe we ought to check."

"Right," Steve grinned, and pushed open the door, knocking Barbara off balance. Steve stepped inside and grabbed her wrist, turning to his friend. "C'mon, Fred. Sweet friendly Babs has invited us in for a drink." He released her delicate wrist. "Let's go, baby." As Fred closed the front door, his dark brooding eyes settled on Barbara's frightened face. She was more beautiful, than he remembered her to be in the murky darkness of night. In the light of day, she was deliciously sweet – a sumptuous beauty. His groin knotted, a reminder of how great a fuck she had been, and that had been a quick piece. He salivated as he thought how much better she would be now in daylight.

"Don't be so upset," Fred said gently. "We just stopped by for a few minutes."

"Yeahhh, a few minutes of conversation," Steve said, nudging Barbara toward the living room.

She looked at Steve. His smile was disarming. She simmered down, thinking of a way out. A few minutes… it would be easier to go along with them… for a few minutes. Barbara accepted the offered glass. "Okay, but only a minute. My husband is on his way home, and I don't want him finding you two here." She forced a smile and sipped. "Christ, it's straight gin."

Fred laughed lightly. "Nah, it's a dry martini." He polished his drink off with two long gulps. "Damn good one, too."

Steve sank his lean frame into a soft comfortable chair and lit a cigarette. He stared intently at Barbara standing self-consciously in the middle of the room. He let the swirls of smoke drift lazily out of his mouth and gazed at Barbara's fantastic body through the blue haze floating past his eyes.

"Fred and I have been talking all day about how great you were last night." Steve took a gulp of his drink and followed it with a deep drag on the cigarette. "Talked ourselves hoarse."

The subject of the conversation didn't appeal to her. Last night was something she wanted to forget. Barbara noticed them staring. "We were good enough for you last night. Now, we're trash, when you're not horny." He hurled her to the couch.

She shook her head vehemently. "No… no… not that at all," she stammered. "I don't think that… it's just that… my husband… I don't…" Fear kept her from finding the right words.

"Bull shit, baby," Steve snarled. "You got plenty of time to play around with us." Steve darted a look at his friend who was sitting on one of the bar stools. "Right, good buddy?"

Fred's grin was wide. "You don't have to worry about your husband. We saw him at the club before we left. He was sniffing around some chick who was enjoying his attention."

"Yeah," Steve added, "and we figured you might want to get even with him. Maybe a repeat performance of last nights." Steve's laugh was lewd, and he stood over her cowering figure rubbing his hard-on. "We know how horny you can get, and your hubby won't be in any shape to fuck you when he comes home."

Barbara's stomach tightened into a solid knot. "You're lying." She didn't want to believe them, yet she knew it was probably true.

"We didn't wanna tell you, but you're so damn snotty," Fred said. Steve swiftly came back with a slap of his own, leaving the red imprint of his hand on her cheek. It knocked her back to the couch. "Shut up, whore. We came to get a little more of what you were giving out last night so freely. We ain't leavin' until we do. Understand?" His hand rubbed his hard cock-bulge.

Her eyes darted from Steve to Fred. "Fred," she sobbed, hoping to get some sympathy from him. "Last night… you said I had class… now you want to rape me?" Her green eyes welled with tears, and her bottom lip was quivering.

"We don't wanna rape you, Barbara," Fred said soothingly. His deep voice was strained; he tried to keep the emotion he felt out of it. "Just want a little of what we shared last night, that's all. We figured you'd be happy as hell."

"Well, I'm not." She tried blinking away the tears. "I'm scared and I don't want to do anything. I had I told you last night I would never do it again."

Steve broke in, "Shit, baby. Don't play so hard to get." He sat don beside her and forced her arms, apart, her tits jiggling as they struggled. "You came on to us both like a nympho, and now you tell us you're gonna be nice and proper? Don't make us laugh." Steve grabbed one of her wrists and twisted. "C'mon, a quick show and Fred and I will cut out and leave you alone. It can't hurt."

She clutched at the hope Steve was holding out to her. She wanted to believe him desperately wanted to.

"Okay," she conceded weakly. A small part of her inwardly and secretly wanted them to desire her to ogle her. "Only for, a minute."

She brought herself to her feet, sheepishly exhibiting her mountainous tits for them. She swallowed hard, feeling their eyes burn into her flesh, and made a complete turn, pausing as she faced Fred, then stopped when she saw Steve.

Her breathing was quick and shallow. Showing her tits like this, under duress, and to two horny men who leered appreciatively, aroused her. She fought it, but she was weakening. Her craving to be wanted, appreciated, contorted her basic decency and confused her mind.

She blushed as she stood under their stares, her eyes downcast, "Can I put something on now?" she asked meekly. "I did what you asked." She looked down; she didn't want them to notice she was getting hot.

"Your tits are fantastic," Steve groaned, his prick stiff and pulsing. "Much better in the light of day, and God, your nipples… whewwwww!" He passed his tongue over his lips. "Makes me hungry just looking at those big tits. What about you, Fred?"

"Gave me an instant hard-on."

Barbara's cheeks were burning. "Can I go now?" She looked up from the floor. "You promised."

Fred thought he noticed something in her voice. He silently looked on, patiently waiting to see what would develop.

Steve was squeezing his cock through his pants. "Shit, Barbara. How can you be so selfish and deprive us of a chance to admire your body? Hell, baby, we're leaving town. Give us something to remember."

"I did what you asked," she whined, her arms ineffectually covering her mammoth cunt.

"How about taking off your shorts?" Steve suggested. "Fred was telling me how great your ass looked when you were bent over and taking his cock in your pussy."