Carole Wilson - Video Games

"Oh God, Stephan, Stephan darling, I'm cummmming! Stephannnnnn! I'm cummmmiiinnnnnggggg!"

But Stephan only barely heard her wild cry of release, for his cock in that moment had begun to jerk out of control, and torrent after torrent of hotly boiling juice burst along the full length to spew out deep up into her hungrily milking cunt, commingling with the juices of her own cum to form a floodtide of passion that poured out around his spasming cock and flowed in thin rivulets down her eagerly straining thighs. And then his prick gave one last spurt of his scalding juice and began to deflate almost immediately inside her wetly clasping cunt. They both sank forward on the carpet, spent and in a state of nearunconsciousness.

Oh Jesus, that was a beautiful screw! Stephan thought satiatedly. One of the best ever, even if it was so quick. And it's going to get better and better, once Gillian starts to come around fully.

And Gillian, lying there with the full weight of her husband on top of her, his warm cum flowing hotly inside her cunt and belly, was thinking different thoughts now in the lulling aftermath of her tremendous cum.

She was thinking about the pattern of her life, and how it was changing, how she could no longer deny that after what had happened to her tonight. But changing for the better, or for the worse? She didn't know yet; she just didn't know yet.

After a long while, Stephan raised himself up and lifted his wife in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. They crawled between the sheets of their bed, and Stephen went to sleep almost immediately; but he did not cuddle up to her as he usually did, did not speak to her except to say goodnight, and she had the inauspicious feeling that she had failed to please him completely tonight in spite of the wildness of both their cums-failed to please the way this new Stephan wanted to fuck, the new Stephan who was sexually liberated.

She knew that if she wanted to keep him, she was going to have to do what he wanted, and if that meant sucking his cock, then she would suck it. She had a sneaking suspicion that deep inside, she really wanted to take his cock into her mouth and swirl her tongue around it and suck it until he came and the hot boiling cum filled her throat and belly.

Gillian felt her pussy tingle at the thought, but turned over and tried to sleep before the fire in her cunt raged out of control again and forced her to go into the bathroom and finger-fuck it to cumming like she had last night…

The next morning after Stephen had left for work, Gillian ran last night's events through her head. Something had changed her husband drastically-something she had no control over. The young housewife moaned involuntarily. Who was putting these lewd, obscene thoughts into her husband's head? There was but one finger to be pointed, and that was at Frank Edwards, the hot-shot film director.

It seemed as if Frank was suddenly becoming the producer and director of their lives. His influence seemed to seep more and more into what she and Stephan were doing and enjoying, and it was an intolerable intrusion. Before that horrible movie camera showed up at their house, her husband had been so kind and gentle in his fucking, had seemed to understand that she wasn't some salacious glutton, but a sensitive, moral wife. But not anymore! She felt incapable of keeping up with his growing needs in the world where nothing mattered but debauched eroticism.

Only the liquor she had drunk last night had loosened her to the point where she too was aroused by lewd movie films, though, she now decided with a shudder, nowhere as strongly excited by them as was her husband.

And it was the drinking that had made her able to participate willingly with Stephan, to actually be naked and be screwed before the movie camera!

Those damned films! Everything seemed to center around them. Stephan had been more interested in them last night than he had been in fucking his own wife! His constant running back and forth changing film, his snappish answers to her pleas for understanding and patience at her ignorance, of his still more angry response when she refused to take his cock in her mouth…

Oh, God! It was all getting out of hand! What could she do? How could she once more garner her husband's attention? She dwelled on the subject, brooding over the loss of his interest in her, over the way he was turned on by the films, over the way her pussy tingled when she saw them herself. She suddenly stood bolt upright.

"No! I'm not like that! I don't like seeing others fuck. No, it's my husband who's like that now, thanks to his brother…not me! Not me!

Never!"

Yet the more her conscious mind rejected the idea that she was incited by such films to almost overwhelming passion, the more her subconscious mind admitted it. Deep, deep down, underneath all the excuses and rationales she could muster, beat the emotional heart of a truly pagan woman of lust.

Although she didn't know it, all it would take to strip the layers away and bare her soul was the right combination, a combination that her husband and his newfound friends were busily working on, and one which fate would soon take a hand in as well.

What could she do to please her husband? The movies-she had the feeling that in them lay the answer.

With a distraught sigh, the young housewife poured herself a cup of coffee and took it into the living room, and plumped up a billowy cushion on the couch and comforted herself. Stephan had cautiously put the movie camera away, but bits and pieces of evidence still lay scattered about the living room.

Her eyes fell on a cassette that had been left in the viewer, forgotten in the frenzy of last night's debauchery, and a growing, almost gnawing tingling started again in her cunt down between her legs as she cast her thoughts momentarily from her own agony to the predicament of other wives who suddenly found themselves thrust into this situation. What would they do?

She turned on the viewer and sat back, tilting the rim of the coffee cup to her lips, her eyes never leaving the image of herself, completely naked, her tits thrust out in open invitation to lust. It set her subconscious at work again, building the fires of prurient desires faster than her consciousness could bank the flames. She tightened her inner thigh muscles, wishing away the featherlike proddings of her sensual nature, and she was unable to.

Something else had happened. Frank had started something with his instant movies and there was no way to reverse the act. Why not become a swinger? If her husband enjoyed looking at films of people fucking each other, then why not give him the entree instead of the appetizer?

The thought made her gasp! What would that lead to? Would the next step be joining movie camera clubs? But she had to have a solution, even if it meant breaking down and talking to Frank; she needed to see him if she was going to hang on to Stephan. Trembling, she downed the coffee.

It wasn't going to do much to her pride to talk to Frank, but there was no other way. This way she would be pleasing her husband, wouldn't she?

Yes, and not only would the movies themselves make him respond, but it would give her time to adjust to this new licentious life-style. Maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to ease into these new values that permeated their screwing these days.

She would have to see Frank first. He might be able to help her. He was so worldly, and so used to swinging. He would know what to do. What if he said the only way to help her was to screw her? What would she do then? She would have to handle that if and when the matter came up.

Gillian rose quickly to her feet, grabbed her purse, and almost ran out the door to the car. She had to see Frank now, before she changed her mind. If she didn't take advantage of the mood she was in right now, she doubted that she would ever be able to muster enough courage to see Frank and let him help her free herself for Stephan. Free herself so that she would not be afraid to take her husband's cock in her mouth and suck it till he came and came, swallowing his cum as though it were the very food on which she lived, which in a sense it was. She had to do this now, because she was afraid of losing Stephan, and she couldn't bear to live without him. If keeping him meant that she would have to go and see Frank and confide in him and accept his advice and help, then she would. She had to.