POINT OF VIEW 


Craig should have known something was up.  He struggled for a moment
but it was futile.  Shelly had planned this out completely, and the
thought of what that might mean made him shiver inside.

It had begun earlier that morning, in the Shelly had looked at him, in
the way she had settled her hand along his quad as they drove to the
rental house.  It was a Friday.  He'd taken the day off work to take
care of some things at a couple of the properties they rented out. 
Their daughter was in school, kindergarten.  Shelly had painted her
fingernails and toenails red.  It had been a while since she had been
so easy with him, so intimate, flashing signs of a mood to have a
little fun.  Acting, in short, like she had in the days before the...
indiscretion.  OK, indiscretions.  She had forgiven him after the
first one.  He had promised her it wouldn't happen again, but it did,
and nothing had been the same since.  He tried to tell her he didn't
love those other women.  The fact that he'd strayed just a bit didn't
in any way lessen his affection or attraction for his wife.  He just
hadn't been able to get her to understand.

"Maybe it's just one of those differences between men and women," he'd
finally said, frustrated.

She just nodded--equally frustrated--and they hadn't spoken about it
again, but she hadn't gotten over it.  Things had been strained
between them after that--until that morning, when they had some things
to take care of at one of their rental properties and Shelly had worn
her flirty summer dress with the chili peppers on it and her nails
were red and she smiled at him and gave him sidelong glances and
rested her hand just close enough to his crotch to be suggestive. 
Finally, it seemed she was getting over it.

The previous evening Shelly had said to him, "I got an e-mail from
Roger.  He won't be in town next week like he had planned.  He wanted
to know if we could stop in and check on the place."  Roger was their
tenant at the two-bedroom Cape Cod on the neat street across town.  He
was single, a consultant who was gone more than he was in town.  His
current assignment had taken him to India and his stay kept getting
extended.  Sometimes he e-mailed to ask if they could look in on the
place and make sure everything was OK.

Shelly surprised Craig by telling him she'd go with him.  He had
become used to doing these things alone.  He was happy that she wanted
to come with him and she seemed oddly excited about it, as well.  She
kept dangling her sandal off her red-nailed toe and working it back on
again.

Usually they did a cursory walkthrough to make sure no one had broken
in, and that there were no leaks or other system troubles.  There
wasn't much else to see.  Roger obviously made a good living but he
was a bachelor who traveled a lot.  The house didn't look very lived
in.

The house had a basement that some previous owner had finished, and
along one part of the ceiling they had hung mirrors.  A disco ball
hung beneath the mirrors.  Craig had always wondered if the mirrors
had been installed for dancing or for fucking.  Probably both.  At
least the disco ball provided a plausible explanation to the casual
observer.  The current tenant had installed his large-screen TV in the
basement, and it hadn't escaped Craig's notice that one of the
furnishings was a futon that if folded out would occupy the floor
space right beneath the mirrors.  He had wondered on more than one
occasion if the guy had ever used it that way.  He had even pointed
out the strategic arrangement to Shelly, but this was after the
trouble had begun and she didn't offer up any comment.

She obviously hadn't forgotten about it, though.  They pulled up in
front of the house and got out of the car.  She held his hand as they
walked up the driveway.  She was giggly, a little nervous, even.  He
thought it was charming and very seductive but he was the one in the
doghouse and he didn't dare assume she had plans for them.  When they
got inside she pulled herself up to his height and kissed him
longingly, deeply, stretching her body against him in a way she hadn't
in months.

Shelly was very pretty.  Petite.  Five-two, long brunette hair so wavy
it sometimes curled.  Her teacup breasts had lost some of their
buoyancy after their daughter was born but Craig still loved the way
they felt in his hand and in his mouth, and right now pressing firmly
against his ribcage.  He realized she wasn't wearing a bra, which
immediately set his cock tingling.  He put his arms around her and she
broke the kiss.  "Let's go to the basement," she said, grabbing his
hand.

"Are you sure we shouldn't do the walkthrough first?" he said,
thinking, What am I saying?

But Shelly pulled him along urgently.  "Later," she said, and led him
downstairs.

In the basement she kissed him again, running her hands along his
back, over his butt.  She sucked on his lip.  When he pressed his
already hard dick against her, she pulled away again.

"I haven't forgotten what you said about the futon and the mirrors,"
she said, pulling up on the front of the piece of furniture.  She
pulled it towards her and the futon unfolded into a low bed, right
beneath the mirrors.

Craig looked at her dumbly.  The suddenness of it all, her urgency,
had come out of nowhere.  What's changed? he wanted to ask her, but he
was hot and it was obvious Shelly was very hot and why ruin the first
moment they'd had like this in months with heavy questions?  He could
ask all the questions he wanted afterwards.

Shelly stood on the mattress and she was nearly his height.  "Come
on," she said--almost growled--"let's get these clothes off."  With
pointed directness she tugged his shirt off over his head and
unfastened his belt and pants.  She pulled his pants and boxers over
his hips and he wiggled them down to his ankles but then realized he
was going to have to sit down to remove his shoes.  Shelly kissed his
neck and raked her fingernails over his nipples while he fumbled with
his shoelaces.  Finally he kicked them off, and his socks, and he was
naked, and she immediately pushed him back on the bed and climbed on
top of him and smothered him in another round of kisses.  She lifted
the hem of her dress out of the way and lowered herself so that she
was pressed against his dick.

"Goddamn," he gasped, because she wore no underwear, either.  The
coarse hairs of her closely-trimmed pussy tickled the base just above
his balls, and when she slid up and down he felt her arousal, felt her
vulva parting, adhering to the circumference of his cock, lubricating
his length with her slick secretions.

The suddenness of it all whirled through his mind again.  In the good
times Shelly loved sex and he was sure that their not having had it
recently had resulted in some pent-up arousal in her, but he had never
known her to be quite like this.  He put his hands on her hips to
guide her up and onto the tip of his penis so they could get down to
business, but she pulled his hands away.

"No," she said, looking him in the eye.  "I want to be in control."

"OK," he said, and he meant it.  Whatever the hell she wanted. 
However she wanted it.  He was just so happy she had finally come out
of her shell.

"In fact," she continued, "I really want to be in control."  She
reached over off the futon and retrieved her large purse.  She pulled
something out and before Craig understood what was happening she had
snapped a soft restraining cuff around his left wrist and to one
corner of the wooden futon frame.

"What's going on?" he said with a puzzled look.  They had done things
with bondage before but it had always been Shelly being restrained. 
She had never taken the initiative to turn the tables on him.

She smiled, so sweet in the midst of the lustful movements of her
hips.  "You've thought about it like this," she said.

"Sure," he said, wondering what had gotten into his wife to go
shopping for these new cuffs.  Still no alarm bells had gone off in
his head.  It never occurred to him not to trust her.

She kissed him.  "Then let me," she said, and slipped a cuff around
his other wrist.

When both hands were secure she surprised him further by repeating the
process on his ankles.  Now he was well and truly stuck.  She slid off
the futon and kissed him again.  She took a small pillow and slid it
under his head.  "Look up," she whispered in his ear, as she reached
down to stroke his penis.

He looked up.  In the mirror he saw himself spread-eagle on the futon.
 He saw his lovely wife's hand curled gently around his manhood, her
red fingernails plainly visible against his pale skin.

"You like that?" she asked in his ear, tickling his balls.

"Yes."

"You like to watch like that?"

"Yes."

Shelly stood up.  "Good," she said, and walked over to the big-screen
TV to turn it on.

"What are you doing?" he asked, thinking porn video, wondering just
how kinky his wife was feeling.

"Just settle back and enjoy the show," she said, picking up her purse.
 At the foot of the steps she blew him a kiss.  Then she left.  He
heard the door at the top of the stairs close behind her as she
finished climbing the stairs.

That's when the first pangs of nervousness set in.  What was she up
to?  Shelly wasn't a woman prone to mystery or elaborate planning when
it came to sex, but she had obviously put some effort into arranging
this.

Which is why he should have known something was up: the suddenness of
Shelly's come-on; the obvious forethought she'd devoted to it. 
Whatever her plan was he didn't like its portent, and his dick, which
had been so ready for Shelly a few moments ago, began to shrink back
down between his legs.

A glance at the television screen confirmed that her planning had been
alarmingly extensive, and the knot in his stomach hitched a little bit
tighter.  On the screen of the television was a still image.  A
bedroom.  The bedroom upstairs.  That's when Craig noticed the cable
snaking from behind the TV and up through one of the small windows
installed near the basement ceiling to let some natural light in.  It
didn't take a Mensa member to figure that the cable ran up the side of
the house and in the window of the bedroom upstairs.  The picture he
was seeing was obviously the view of a video camera.

The mystery deepened into a near panic when he heard the front door
open and close.  Where was she going?  She wasn't just going to leave
him here, was she?  Was this some sort of payback for his fooling
around?  She was just going to abandon him naked in the basement of an
unoccupied house?  He pulled fiercely at the restraints that held him
to the futon but she had done her work well.  He wasn't going
anywhere.

A moment later he heard the sound of footsteps going up the stairs
towards the second floor.  His first reaction was relief that she
hadn't simply abandoned him.  But if she hadn't left the house, then
why had he heard the front door open and close...

He had barely had time to engage his brain in the other possibility
when Shelley breezed into the television picture.  She sat on the bed
facing the camera.  She looked nervous, which made Craig even more
anxious.

"Hello, Craig," she said.  "I hope you're comfortable and that you can
see the screen well enough.  You know I'm not so good at this
audio-visual stuff.  It took me hours yesterday to set up our video
camera and get the right kind of cable long enough to reach from here
to the basement.  But I know you can hear and see me because I tested
it."  She shifted her weight and crossed her legs.  "I've got someone
I want you to meet.  Well, OK, you won't actually be meeting him in
the traditional sense, so I should say I've got someone I'd like to
introduce to you."  She beckoned and a young man came and stood beside
her at the bed.  He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and two things
were immediately obvious: he was very young and he was very muscular. 
The material of the shirt strained to contain his biceps and his
pectorals.  He looked like a teenager.  His black hair was cut back
very short, emphasizing the square shape of his face.  Diamond stud
earrings glistened in both of his ears, and a goatee covered his chin.
 His face had a kind of slack expression that suggested he was more
brawns than brains.  He wasn't looking at the camera, though.  He was
looking at Shelly.  He was looking at Craig's wife with a look of
undisguised hunger.

What the hell was happening here?  What kind of game was Shelly
playing?  Craig thought that whatever it was, she had made her point. 
She was going too far.  But still he couldn't take his eyes off the
television screen.

Shelly laid her hand on the boy's oaken stomach.  "Craig, this is,
well, since neither of us will ever see him again after today, we can
call him anything we like.  I think I'll call him Rod, you know, as in
hot, or ram.  You like that name, Craig?  I do.  Nice and symbolic." 
She looked up at the boy.  "And Rod doesn't care what I call him, do
you?"

"Rod's cool by me," he answered in a dull voice that reinforced
Craig's perception that he wasn't the sharpest knife in the cutlery.

Shelly patted Rod's stomach and smiled.  "That's right," she said,
turning back to face the camera.  "Rod doesn't care what I call him. 
He doesn't care why I'm doing this.  Rod just wants to have a little
fun."  She looked back up at him.  "Isn't that right, Rod?"

"Oh, yeah," said Rod.

This guy's a real fucking jewel, a real find, thought Craig in the
midst of his anger and confusion.  Where the hell did Shelly come up
with this winner?

As if in answer to his question, Shelly began to talk as her hand
moved lower on Rod's body, playing with the hem of his shirt, at the
top of his jeans.  "It took me a while to figure out how I was going
to get you to understand what your messing around has been like for
me.  But then I figured maybe it was unfair to be so one-sided.  Why
should I only want you to see my point of view?  Maybe what I really
needed to do was to take your advice and try and see things from your
point of view."  Her hand disappeared under the fabric of Rod's shirt
and through the tight material Craig could see her running her palm up
the bare skin of Rod's stomach.  "Then I had an idea that maybe we
could kill two birds with one stone.  Maybe we could each get a taste
of the other's point of view at the same time.  Because you see," she
said, running her hand now all over the chiseled knolls of Rod's
pectorals, "this is not the sort of thing I would have ever sought
outside our marriage.  Nothing's ever perfect, but you satisfy me
enough that I don't need to look elsewhere for a thrill.  But that
doesn't mean I *can't* be thrilled by other possibilities.  I'm not so
very conventional that I can't be intrigued by the thought of a good
fuck from a hunky young thing.  That's all you say your affairs were
about, right?  And you wanted me to understand that?  Well, what
better way than to experience it for myself?"

Shelly withdrew her hand from inside Rod's shirt and traced it lightly
down along the line of his zipper.  Craig nearly jumped out of his
skin, seeing her actually touching Rod there.  But, of course, he was
inside his skin, which was inside the cuffs he'd so stupidly allowed
her to slap on him.  How could he not have known he was being set up? 
He was furious with himself for being tricked, furious with Shelly for
tricking him, and at the same time, he felt his hard-on returning. 
What the hell?  In the midst of all of this crap he was getting turned
on again?  By watching his wife getting ready to fuck another man?

Shelly continued her explanation as she absentmindedly tickled Rod's
crotch with her fingertip.  Rod's jeans were almost as tight as his
shirt and Craig could see the bulge forming inside.  "That's how I
figured I could see your point of view," said Shelly.  "And then I
figured out this way of helping you to see *my* point of view, how it
feels to be the one whose spouse is fucking someone else.  And I know
how you men are, you're so visual.  The way to make you feel the
closest to what I felt is to have you actually watching me while it
happens.  Oh, I know, I tricked you, right?  Because you're tied up
I'm not giving you any choice, right?  Well I don't figure you gave me
any choice before you did what you did, so what's fair is fair.  Don't
you agree?"

Craig noticed that as Shelly had been talking, her hand had been
making increasing contact with Rod's crotch, and as Rod's, er, rod had
grown, she had begun to mold her fingers around the shape inside the
denim.  He also noticed that as she had been talking, her nervousness
had disappeared.  The more she talked the more she reassured herself
that she was the one in control, that she was the one who had the
right to be doing what she was doing.  Craig remembered how wet she
had already been a while ago when she pressed her bare pussy up
against his dick, and he knew that she was not only determined to go
through with it, she was even looking forward to it.  This increased
both his wild jealousy and his arousal.  He caught sight of himself in
the overhead mirrors.  His dick was as hard as it had been when
Shelly's hand had been on it the last time he looked up there.  He saw
he was shifting his hips slightly in an unconscious move to rub it
against something.  But there was only air and he was immobilized and
there was nothing he could do.

Shelly said to Rod, "Take that shirt off," and he quickly complied,
stripping the thin cotton over his head to reveal the magnificent
torso that the shirt had emphasized.  Shelly smiled appreciatively
before turning back to the camera.  "Rod's only nineteen, which means
he has lots of energy, right, Rod?"

"You bet your ass," said Rod.

"We'll see about that," she said to him, and then to the camera,
"Never mind how I found him.  I guess I'm still a good-looking woman,
even though it's tough to feel like that when your husband sleeps
around.  I wanted a certain kind of man for this experience.  Since
you're watching, I wanted him to be very... impressive... on the
screen.  I wanted him young, cut, and hung."  She slipped the button
on Rod's jeans free of its hole.  "Those other women were young and
pretty, weren't they, Craig?  So why shouldn't I take the same
liberty?"  She began to slowly slide Rod's zipper down.  "I was really
surprised at how easy it was to find a guy eager to do this with me. 
I guess I'm not so unattractive, after all."

This guy she'd found was definitely young, definitely cut, and as
Shelly lowered his zipper, Craig saw that he was by all means hung, as
well.

"Oh, my," said Shelly, gazing at what had just presented itself.  "Rod
told me he was big, but goodness."  She looked up at him again.  "You
weren't kidding."

"No," Rod agreed, sounding proud.

"Take these jeans off," she told him, and while he did, Shelly said to
the camera, "The big dick thing doesn't matter to me," she said. 
"I've always been so happy with your normal-sized penis."  She giggled
a little again.  "You know my complete sexual history, husband.  You
know I've never had a really big dick like this one before.  But I
know you men have this fascination with penis size, so I figured it
would help to make an impression on you."  Rod was finished undressing
now and he stood before Shelly naked, displaying his entire body in
all of its sculpted detail.  It was no doubt his most impressive
attribute.  Shelly looked at him for a moment, up and down his entire
body, even though she was eye-level with his penis, which was still
rolling up along his thigh into full hardness.

Craig groaned to see his wife so close to another man's naked body. 
Shelly had been right.  The effect of seeing her in the presence of
such a physically fine body was even more powerful than if she had
picked a normally proportioned man to carry on with.

Then Shelly reached out and took hold of Rod's penis in both of her
hands.  "Oh, my," she said again, her voice a little awed.  "It just
keeps growing."  She began to stroke it and Craig noticed how tiny her
hands looked against it.  They looked so much smaller than they had in
the overhead mirror a short while ago when she had had her hand
encircled around his own cock.  She was sliding knife after exquisite
knife right into his gut.  "Even though it doesn't matter to me, not
in any meaningful way," said Shelly as she stroked Rod to full
hardness, "I think this will be quite an adventure."  She closed her
hand around Rod's cock and looked at the camera.  "Look, Craig, I
can't even close my fingers all the way around it."  And Craig saw the
open expanse that prevented her from closing the circle.  He saw his
wife's glossy red nails against the flesh of Rod's manhood.  He saw
the diamond of her wedding band sparkling along the length of another
man's penis.

She turned her attention back to her stroking.  She went slowly all
the way up and all the way down.  "He's got nice balls, too," she
said, dropping one hand to cup the sack that dangled against his
thighs.

Two floors below, in the dim light of the basement, Craig moaned at
the thought of that touch, the vision of Shelly's hands caressing
those balls and practically feeling her touch on his own scrotum.  How
he wished.

After a minute Shelly stopped and looked at Rod.  "Stroke yourself,"
she instructed, and without hesitation Rod's hand went to his own
dick, moving easily up and down.  Shelly watched for a second and then
turned to the camera.  "I'm getting ready to get busy here, but just
so you won't be in too much suspense, I'll tell you what's going to
happen.  What's going to happen," she said, against the backdrop of
the beefy young man behind her stroking his thing, "is that I'm going
to make him come.  And then he's going to make me come.  And then I'm
going to let him fuck me."  She glanced back at Rod's package for a
second and added, "I'm a little nervous because he's so big and I'm so
small and I wonder if I'll be able to take all of him.  But I'm a
woman, Craig, and an accomplished lover, in case you've for some
reason forgotten that.  And now that it comes right down to it, I
*want* to feel it all inside me, which means I'm sure I will."  She
paused to smile up at Rod.  "Does that sound good to you?"

"Let's get to it," said Rod, his hand still moving around himself.

Shelly winked at him and then said to the camera, "After he fucks me
he's going to leave and we'll never see him again, and I'm going to
come downstairs and I think in spite of yourself you're going to be
turned on beyond belief, and I'm going to get on top of you and put
you inside me so you can feel the spaces Rod's big dick opened up
inside me when he fucked me, and I'm going to move in the way you like
best and I'm going to let you come inside me, because you're my
husband after all and I haven't forgotten that.  And then we're not
going to talk about it for two weeks.  And you're going to think about
everything that's happened and then we'll figure out if this is the
kind of marriage you want to have or if you want the kind we had
before, when it was just me and you."

She stopped for a moment to let her words sink in, then she said, "But
that's getting way ahead of the moment.  I've had Rod here getting
himself all turned on while I talked to you, and now I'm going to give
him what he came for."  After a final pause she added, "You can watch
or you can close your eyes, but I know you, Craig.  I know you'll be
watching even in spite of yourself."

She reached in her purse and pulled something out, a condom.  She tore
a corner of the foil wrapper and as she pried it open Craig knew she
had nailed him again.  He was captivated.  Mesmerized.  His penis
twitched, casting about for something to satisfy it.  He thought he
would come if even the wind blew.  Unfortunately, there was not even
the hint of a breeze in the close air of the basement.  He would get
no release from this special method of torture his wife had designed
for him.

On the television screen, Shelly had extracted the condom and was
rolling it carefully down the length of Rod's cock.  She was being
very studios, which made it seem to take a long time to finally fully
unroll somewhere about a third of the way from the base.  It was snug
around his girth, the only slack being at the reservoir at the very
tip.

"There," she exhaled, as if the action had been some final threshold
she had been timid to step over.  But now that she had, something had
changed.  Craig saw it in her face when she looked briefly at the
camera to say, "Latex is so yucky, so I found one that's cherry
flavored."  She giggled as if she was embarrassed but what Craig saw
in her face was that half-vacant look she got when she was especially
turned on, when she was closing out the world around her because of
the lust building inside her.  "It's so silly and decadent and
suggestive," she said breezily.  She had been rubbing Rod's penis
again as she talked, and now she put a finger in her mouth.  "Cherry
flavored.  Who knew?"  And then she sent an earthquake rocking through
Craig's gut when she turned back, opened her mouth, and began to suck
Rod's cock.

The camera was far enough away that there was no close-up view, but
nonetheless Craig had an intimate view of his wife's mouth closing
around the sheathed crown of another man's penis.  She didn't waste
any time on licking or teasing.  Instead, she went up and down in
small motions, concentrating on accommodating the size of it in her
mouth.  There was a soft moan and Craig couldn't tell if it came from
her or him.  Then she got a little braver and began to suck Rod a
little faster, a little deeper, but even so she never had much of him
in her mouth at the same time.  Craig knew Shelly was no cock
swallower.  She was taking all she could.

But it seemed to be enough for Rod.  "Yeah, baby," he said, resting a
hand on Shelly's head.  "That's right.  Suck it."

Jesus Christ, thought Craig.  What's with the pornstar delivery?  This
guy must really think he's God's gift.

Shelly wrapped her fingers around as much of Rod's cock as she could
and began to jack him off as she sucked him.  "Fuck, yeah.  Fuck,
yeah," Rod crooned.

I'd punch this joker in the mouth just to shut him up, Craig swore
uselessly.

Then suddenly Rod came.  He must have already been aroused by all of
Shelly's and his stroking of his cock--or, Craig thought with some
superior disdain, the guy just has no self-control.  Rod went into a
sudden husky incantation, "Yeah, yeah, oh fuck, yeah..." that morphed
into a chant of, "oh! oh! oh!" each "oh!" corresponding to an
ejaculation into his wife's mouth.

Shelly trembled for a moment when Rod's dick first pulsed between her
cheeks, but she didn't stop bobbing her head up and down.  In fact,
Craig saw her hand that had been helping to coax him to orgasm drop
between his legs and gently squeeze his balls, eliciting another
couple of "oh!"s from Rod before he was finally finished.

When Shelly finally pulled her head away Rod's cock reappeared like a
snowcapped peak.  The reservoir tip at the end of the condom had
filled to capacity with his semen.  Shelly exhaled shakily, and Craig
could see a strange pride playing around her lips.

"Go get yourself cleaned up," she said to Rod, indicating in the
direction of the bathroom.  Rod walked off, holding his latex-clad
penis like a prize.

Shelly reached into her purse and came out with a bottle of water. 
She took a long drink and wiped absently at her mouth and turned back
to look at Craig through the lens of the camera.

"You always complained because I don't swallow," she said.  "At least
you can take comfort that I didn't do it for someone else, either. 
But maybe that's one reason you did what you did.  You know, instead
of enjoying the things we *did* do together, you chose to dwell on the
things we *didn't* do together.  Am I getting anywhere here?  I bet
they sucked you like I did Rod, didn't they?  Only I bet there was no
condom to stop you from shooting straight into their mouths.  Is that
one of the reasons, Craig?"

Goddammit, thought Craig, remembering how the second one, Nicole, had
gone down on him right in the middle of midday traffic that one
afternoon they snuck off to the hotel.  When he came she swallowed all
of it, eagerly, making contented mewling sounds like a cat lapping
cream, and afterwards she had looked up at him, her eyes sparkling,
and said, "I'll bet your little wifey doesn't do that for you."  At
the moment it had made him feel so special.  Now he wondered why.

Upstairs, the kid came back into the bedroom, his half-limp dong
slapping wetly against his thigh as he walked.  He bent down and
grabbed the back of Shelly's head, inclining it upward as he leaned
down and kissed her hungrily.  "That was awesome," he said when he
broke for air.  "Let me return the favor."  He kissed her again and
put his hand between her legs.  Craig saw Shelly's knees ease open and
when she moaned it was the unmistakable sound she always made when she
had been aching for him to touch her down there and he finally did. 
"Fuckin'-A, you're hot," muttered Rod, and as they kissed some more
Craig could see the muscles fluttering in Rod's forearm as he explored
inside Shelly with his fingers.

After a minute Shelly pushed him away and said, "I want you to really
return the favor," and she got up on the bed and lay down, giving the
camera a side view of her body, her face closest to the lens.  "Maybe
you were hoping I would spread my legs right into the camera," she
said to Craig, her breath already ragged, her cheeks bright with lust,
"but you'll just have to imagine the parts you can't see."

But Craig could see plenty.  He saw the kid kneel on the floor and
pull Shelly to the side of the bed.  He saw him pushing the filmy
fabric of her dress up her thighs.  He saw Shelly lift her hips so Rod
could push the dress up until it lay bunched across her belly.  When
she lifted her hips he caught sight of her cunt, bare and exposed to
Rod's devouring eyes.

After a moment of drinking in the sight of Shelly's body, Rod dove in
face first.  Shelly cried out, like someone was tickling her with a
deliciously live wire.  Immediately she put her hands behind her knees
and drew them up to her chest, and for several long moments her body
bucked and thrashed at everything Rod was doing between her legs,
which appeared to be plenty by the frantic motion of his head.  Up and
back and up and back he went, spearing his tongue as deeply as he
could into Shelly's cunt.

After a few moments of this Shelly got back in control of herself
enough to loll her head towards the camera and say, "He's fucking me
with his tongue, Craig, just like I bet you did with those women.  Did
they open themselves for you like I'm doing?  I bet that really turned
you on, didn't it, Craig?  It's turning me on right now.  Not that I
need to be any more turned on."

Shelly's hands went from her knees down to her crotch and Rod backed
off his eager tongue fucking to watch what she was doing.  "I'm
showing him my clitoris now, Craig.  You know how ripe and full it
gets when I'm ready to burst."  Then she looked at Rod.  "I want you
to suck and lick right there, and put your fingers inside me so you
can feel how good I squeeze them when I come."

Rod smiled wolfishly at her and said, "Goddamn, you're hot," and he
bent his head to the jewel she had offered him and snaked his hand in
between her legs so he could enter her with his fingers.

"Oh, God," Shelly breathed.  "Oh, God, that's great.  I can feel your
goatee sliding along my cunt, oh boy."

Shelly could talk dirty a little bit when they were in the throes of a
great fuck, but Craig had never heard her speak so explicitly and give
such explicit instruction.  He knew she was doing it so he would know
all the things that were happening that the camera couldn't capture,
and it somehow made it even more brutally real than if he had just
been seeing it.  To know that he *couldn't* see it, even though it was
happening right in front of his eyes, was maddening.  He found he was
gasping, fighting to get the breath in, as if a five-hundred-pound
gorilla were squatting on his chest, nearly choking with rage on what
was going on upstairs, yet somehow, if it were possible, even harder
than ever.  The mirror overhead showed the slick pool around his navel
from the precum drooling from the tip of his penis.  He had never,
ever--even in the height of his forbidden sexual liaisons--been so
helplessly, desperately turned on.  He was whimpering.

Back on the television, Shelly had settled into a rhythm of slow,
exhaling moans as Rod nibbled and licked her clitoris.  Craig could
get just a glimpse of his elbow appearing and disappearing behind
Shelly's leg as he fucked his fingers in and out of her.  She made a
couple of rising sounds like she did when she was getting ready to
come, but it appeared, Craig thought with grim satisfaction, that the
guy Shelly had picked wasn't such a pro at pleasing a woman as he was
at having a woman please him.  Shelly confirmed it when she gave a
slightly exasperated whimper and said, "I'm so close and I want to
come so badly.  Here," she grabbed Rod's hand that wasn't between her
legs and brought it to her mouth, sucking sloppily at his thumb.  Rod
looked puzzled, but Craig knew what she was going to do.  He knew the
way she went over the edge if she was teetering, and now she was going
to show Rod.

He pulled his thumb from her mouth, dripping and glistening with her
saliva, and put it between her legs, lifting her hips to position it
below the fingers that were in her pussy.  "There," she said, "do
everything," and obviously Rod wasn't puzzled any more because
Shelly's head snapped back and she cried, "Oh," as he worked his
lubricated thumb into her asshole.

Rod gobbled up her clit again and Shelly tried to look at the camera
even though she wasn't focusing on anything outside her own pleasure
at that moment.  "You know what it feels like to be him, don't you
Craig?  With his tongue on my clit and fingerfucking me in my pussy
and in my ass, and you know what it feels like when I clamp down
around everything because I'm coming, I'm coming, Oh, Craig, I'm
coming...."  And Craig could only watch as his wife's body snapped and
curled and arched with the concussions of the orgasm that exploded
inside her.

It seemed like minutes that Shelly writhed on the bed as her orgasm
snaked and licked its way through her nerves.  Rod was still working
everything, pulling his mouth away every few seconds to offer
scintillating commentary like, "Oh, fuck, that's so fucking hot."  And
even though he was having his way with his wife, Craig couldn't help
but think again what a meathead this guy was.

But he was a meathead with a beard wet with Shelly's pussy juice, and
when Shelly finally pushed him away and he stood up again, he was a
meathead with another fully erect boner.  Shelly felt around in her
handbag one final time and flipped him a condom.

While he worked the second skin over his penis, Shelly sat up on her
elbows to admire him.  When she spoke, it sounded as if she'd had a
bit too much wine, as if the pleasure chemicals her orgasm had flooded
into her bloodstream were making her a little bit drunk.  "OK, Craig,"
she said roundly, her tongue too lazy to get all the way around the
words, "here's the final act.  Here's where he puts that big thing
inside me and fucks me just like you fucked those other women."  She
sighed as she watched Rod finish unrolling the condom over his
engorged cock.  "Isn't it wonderful how resilient these young studs
are, all fired up again so soon after I made him come before?"

Craig's last bitterly gloating thought before Rod fucked his wife was,
Hah!  Because that very day Nicole had given him the blowjob in the
car, they had gone to the hotel and he had fucked her there, only a
little while after he had come in her mouth.  "Your fucking meathead
isn't the only one who can get it up again," he shouted at the
ceiling, but it didn't appear his voice had carried to the second
floor, and besides, the triumph didn't feel much like one to brag
about anymore.

Rod approached Shelly, and as he hovered over her the contrast between
his hulking frame and Shelly's petite form was striking.  He must have
been six-two or six-three--a full foot taller than Shelly--and his
chest and arms looked all the more dominating showcased above Shelly's
body.  He was simply huge and Shelly looked like a little girl beneath
him.  But she was no little girl, as Craig was reminded when she eased
back off her elbows again and shifted her hips in an adept enticement
to penetration.

Rod responded to Shelly's invitation by guiding his cock in between
her legs.  When she felt the pressure of its great crown against her
entrance, she reached down to manage the operation.  "Go slow," she
said she said in a tremulous whisper that Craig could barely make out.
 "Let me get used to the size of you."

Shelly opened her legs as wide as they would open, and Rod pressed
himself against her.  At first nothing seemed to be happening.  It
looked to Craig as if they were frozen, Shelly's eyes closed in a
Zen-like concentration, Rod looking down at their juncture through
heavy-lidded eyes.  "Ah," Shelly finally breathed.  "There.  The head
is inside me."  She turned to the camera as Rod's pubic bone moved
inexorably closer to hers.  "I'm a determined woman," she whispered. 
"I'm going to take this big dick all the way."

And she did.  She closed her eyes again and began a long exhale, as if
the air were being slowly pressed out as she expanded inside to
accommodate the massive cock sinking into her.  Rod's forward motion
stopped only when their bodies met.  Then they were still like that
for another few moments.  Shelly's eyes remained closed, her breathing
shallow.  Then she raised her arms, putting her hands on Rod's biceps,
and she slowly began to move her hips.  Rod took her meaning and
started gently moving in and out.  Just a little bit at first, then a
little more and faster as he felt Shelly's body finding its happy
groove around its new playmate.

"That's good," Shelly encouraged him as he increased his tempo.  "I
like it like that."

Downstairs, Craig had now slipped into something of a miasma of lust
and jealousy.  He felt as if everything in his body were made of Jello
except for his stupidly straining cock, and his mind was so foggy that
even if Shelly were speaking to him as she was fucking Rod, he
wouldn't have been able to understand it.  But what he saw on the
big-screen TV was Rod now really having a go at his wife, not holding
anything back, and his wife raking her fingernails down Rod's arms and
over his nipples.

They fucked each other like that for some time, the force of Rod's
piledriving thrusts radiating throughout Shelly's body, and then Rod
had possibly the only original thought he'd had the entire time and he
scooped Shelly up off the bed as if she weighed nothing.  Craig saw
Shelly's ankles lock instinctively around the small of Rod's back. 
She was still completely impaled on his shaft as Rod walked her over
and stood so close to the camera that Shelly's ass with Rod's balls
tucked snugly beneath filled almost all of the big television screen
in the basement.

Then Rod showed off just a little.  He put his hands on Shelly's ass
and lifted her slowly all the way up his length, showing Craig the
sheer amount of cock that was buried inside his wife.  Then he let her
down again just as slowly, so Craig could see it all disappear again.

"Come on!" Shelly urged him.  "Don't slow down now."  And Rod obeyed,
lifting her and dropping her with incredible force over and over again
all around his cock, Shelly making loud inarticulate cries of abandon
each time they thundered back together, filling the television screen
in front of Craig until Rod cried out and slammed Shelly down one last
time and held her there so tightly his fingertips turned white.  Rod's
balls went tight against Shelly's ass, and Craig saw them bobbing like
a couple of punch-drunk street fighters as they let loose a long
torrent of cum to flood the sweet pussy that had triggered their
release.  Then, after Rod had given everything he could on his own,
Craig saw the fluttering in Shelly's glutes, and he knew what it meant
because he had felt it so many times before, when she worked him from
the inside, milking the last drops out with the powerful muscles down
deep near her womb.  It was instinctive, and she probably wasn't even
aware she was doing it.  But to Craig that just made it somehow more
personal and intimate than anything else that had taken place.

After everything was finally given and received, Craig saw the color
returning to Rod's fingertips and the slow unflexing of the tight
embrace with which Shelly clung to Rod's body.  Rod gave a long,
satisfied exhale and lifted Shelly gently off his cock.  Shelly made
the small sounds Craig was used to hearing during withdrawal, followed
by the little whimper when he slipped all the way free.  Once again,
Craig was confronted with the evidence of what had taken place as
Rod's cock waved in front of the camera, the condom covered in
Shelly's copious lubrication and filled once again to bursting with
the incredible quantity of his ejaculation--if possible, even more
than the first time around.  In spite of himself, Craig had to tip his
hat to the son of a bitch.  He sure had plenty to give.

Rod turned to set Shelly back on the bed and Craig saw the red ribbons
of rawness on his back where she had raked him deeply with her
fingernails during the ferocious final ride.  Shelly pecked Rod on the
lips.  "That was something else," she said, still a little cross-eyed.
 "That was wild."

"You got into it," said Rod.

"Well, I guess that was part of the point.  But now you know it's time
to go."

Rod stood up.  "If you ever need to, you know, make another point..."

Shelly smacked his muscle-bound ass and said, "Get out of here."

"All right," said Rod, and with a last wolfish grin at her he gathered
up his clothes and exited stage left.

Shelly turned her attention again to the camera for the first time in
a while.  She was sweating, disheveled, her hair a riot of waves, the
sexual flush still pink on her chest.  "And so goes Rod," she said
with a theatrical twirl of her hand.  "All action and no talk, that
one."  As she spoke Craig heard the front door open and close,
signaling Rod's departure from the premises.  "Which leaves just you
and me," Shelly continued.  "Is this the way you want things to be,
Craig?  What's good for the gander is good for the goose, and all
that.  Remember, after today I don't want to hear a word about it for
two weeks, then we decide.  Because I'm not going to remain a woman
scorned, do you understand?"

Two stories below, tied up tight as ever to the futon, Craig did
understand.  She had absolutely conveyed her point of view.

Shelly stood up.  "I guess I'll come on down now, while I'm still all
stretched out from Rod's big dick, and I'll relieve the suffering I
know you must be in by now."  She scooped up her dress in her arms. 
As she reached toward the camera to turn it off, she added with a
wicked smile, "Let's see if you can fill up all that space he's left
for you."

The television screen went dark.