Even as Jack grabbed my arm, I'd already stopped. We
both put index fingers to our mouths and moved slowly
in the direction of the voice. This was definitely one
of the wildest Halloween parties we'd ever been invited
to. The "we" I'm referring to is not Jack and I; he's
the next-door neighbor to the host of this party. Jack
and I were returning from a ride in his recently
restored '68 Shelby GT500-KR Mustang; "the ultimate
Shelby Mustang featuring a 428 cubic-inch Cobra-Jet V8
producing almost 400 horsepower worth of Detroit
muscle" (Jack's words.) The real "we" is my wife
Samantha and me; I'm Bill.
"That's it, suck it all the way down your throat. God
Samantha and I had moved into this neighborhood last
November, just after the last Halloween party. "Oh man,
you just missed the Henderson's Halloween party; better
block out the weekend for next year right now!" was
usually the second thing said, right after "Hello,
welcome to the neighborhood."
Damn! Jack and I could see the back of the guy's head,
but whoever was servicing him was completely obscured
by shrubbery. The servicee had his arms over his head
and when I looked closer I nudged Jack and pointed it
out to him. The guy was recording his blowjob with a
small video camera - see what I mean: wild!
Jack motioned to a vantage point on the other side of
the yard and indicated he knew a way to get there. We
heard the guy grunting his orgasm as we passed behind
the back of the pool cabana. I paused for a second,
there was a miniscule opening and I could just make out
a kneeling figure dressed in black. By the time we
cleared the pool cabana the whole scene came into
focus. The guy who just got blown was in a Devil
costume, complete with long tail. The figure in black
was bending over a table as the Devil kept recording.
The costume of the figure in black was a nun's habit; I
suddenly didn't feel very good - this wasn't right. The
nun bent forward over the table as the Devil lifted the
bottom of the habit and flipped it onto her back. Even
in the dim light of the yard you could see her ass and
cunt. The guy kneeled behind her and began to eat her
out. The woman was trembling and wiggling her ass in
The Devil stopped eating her out and stood moving to
the side. He lifted his tail and teased her cunt with
the tip as she pushed her butt back. Jack leaned in
close to my ear, "What a nasty fucking slut. I'd pay my
wife a thousand bucks to act like that with me." Under
normal circumstances I would have agreed with him.
"C'mon let me have it. We both know you want me to do
this, come on now." The Devil had bent forward and was
talking to the Nun, but he was loud enough for us to
hear. "You won't get fucked until you give it to me.
Heh, heh, heh; I knew you would... you are such a nasty
When he stood back up he was holding a large ruler in
his hand; he rubbed it against the woman's ass. He
framed the view in his camcorder, raised the ruler
overhead and swung forward - SMACK. He brought the
ruler back again, - SMACK. After eight more the nun's
ass was scarlet and the Devil's cock was erect. I was
getting a very sick feeling in my stomach.
The Devil set the ruler down and moved behind her. He
bent his knees a little then thrust forward; his cock
disappeared inside her. You could hear the woman's
"UHHHFFFFF!" as he bottomed out. He paused for a
moment then began to thrust into her. The Devil was
fucking the Nun.
My stomach flipped and twisted and I threw up as I
doubled over. I straightened up in time to see the
Devil half-turned looking right at me; he smiled and
arched his eyebrows. Then the couple scrambled off into
My head was spinning so bad I could barely walk; Jack
helped me back inside. I found an empty chair in the
kitchen and just sat down at a table. I couldn't
believe what I had just witnessed: the Devil with his
camcorder, the Nun with her ruler and the two of them
fucking. I knew of only one woman in a Nun habit
tonight and she wasn't married to the guy in the Devil
costume. She was married to me.
Samantha and I've been married for three years. Someone
told me once that getting through the first three years
of marriage is quite an accomplishment. Until tonight,
I thought we were doing pretty well.
I know that we've had our share of challenges and
arguments; what couple doesn't? We both work full-time
and earn good money; so finances aren't that big a
problem. I guess our primary gripe revolves around time
together; which we both acknowledge isn't enough. And
that's where sex comes into the equation, because when
we have some time together; I want to enjoy sex with my
Sam has a slightly different take this: more along the
lines of quality taking precedent over quantity. She
wants quality time, quality foreplay and she wants it
all wrapped up in a nice romantic package. I'm all for
romantic, slow love making, and everything; but
sometimes you just want a good fast fuck. The result is
a shifting stalemate of safe, routine sex that you
could almost characterize as scripted. Scripted! Ha -
after what I saw tonight, not only were Sam and I not
on the same page; we weren't even reading the same
I didn't say anything to Jack. I can just imagine it -
"oh Jack, about the whole slut-wife thing; it ain't all
it's cracked up to be." Of, course he was talking about
his wife acting the slut for him, not some guy in a
I found my way to a quiet spot in the kitchen. I tried
to make sense of all I'd seen. Sure, we've been arguing
more and Sam has definitely been drinking more; okay,
we've both been drinking too much of late. And there
was the thing earlier this evening when she got really
pissed at me. This woman was dressed as a mermaid with
real scallop shells as bra cups. I had asked the woman
if the shells irritated her nipples.
The woman replied by pulling the shells down and
invited me to inspect them - hey, she asked! So I
touched a woman's nipple; I was curious, what's the big
deal? Okay, I'll admit that the obvious hardening of
said nipple (not to mention the tenting of my costume)
might seem too coincidental to some. Judging by the
ferocious glare leveled at me Sam didn't exactly see it
as a Discovery channel moment.
"Hey Bill. Having a good time?" I adopted an "all's
right with the world face" and turned to the
"Hi Marianne, how are... whoa. Look at you. I've got to
tell you; in the bright lights of the kitchen I have a
new appreciation of your costume." Marianne was wearing
a Helen of Troy toga. She'd looked good earlier, but
now she looked amazing. I quickly realized that a
significant part of amazing was that Marianne's breasts
were on glorious display. I zeroed in right on them and
the whole hard nipples tented costume thing happened
Marianne is a divorced, single mom, who happens to be a
neighbor. I often let her two boys come over and watch
sports on my big plasma HDTV. She's also an incessant
flirt (and she's groped me more than once!) Marianne's
always telling Samantha that if she ever threw me out,
to throw me in Marianne's direction. Even though
Marianne was a good fifteen years older than me I knew
how serious she was. Samantha thought the whole thing
was hilarious; often taunting Marianne that she would
be taking care of three boys then.
She looked down at her rack and sighed. "Enjoy the view
while you can Bill. I lost a stupid bet and it cost me
my bra and panties." I couldn't stop myself from
looking lower and saw that she was telling the truth. I
expected her to cover up or say something; she didn't.
While Marianne didn't seem to mind me looking at her,
she did seem uncomfortable about something. She wasn't
making the slightest effort to flirt; which was very
unusual for her. Marianne looked at my costume; I was
dressed as a Ninja: swathed in black from head to toe.
She appeared to be distressed by it. "So you stuck with
the Ninja costume. I though you might have gotten
something else. I haven't seen Sam - have you?"
Had I seen Sam? The mention of my wife drew a scowl
across my face and my voice burned with anger. "Oh I've
seen her alright. I don't know where she is right now
Marianne. Sam was drinking pretty heavily earlier,
maybe she needed...I don't know where she is right
"Okay. Bill...if she's drunk she shouldn't be left
alone... this party can get a little out of control."
While Marianne voice was calm enough, her eyes spoke a
completely different tale; clearly something was very
wrong. "I've already heard some of the guys saying some
pretty wild things."
Then it hit me - Jack. Jack must have said something
and she overheard it. Judging by the tales I'd heard
all year long, sexual encounters at these parties
weren't exactly uncommon. "Tell you what Bill let's go
find your wife." I stood and offered her my arm.
We'd barely cleared the kitchen when we saw a group of
people leaving. The Devil was among them. Some woman
was hanging all over him, his left arm around her. I
was looking right at his wedding ring. He glanced my
way, and we made eye contact - again. I guess he
recognized me because he arched his eyebrows just like
he had in the garden. I tensed, "Fucking Bastard."
I felt Marianne tremble at my tension. "Are you okay
"Oh, didn't you hear Marianne? The Devil," I nodded in
his direction, "nailed a nun tonight; outside by the
pool." I was pissed now. I didn't know if I wanted to
kick the shit out of the devil or find my wife and kick
the shit out of her.
Marianne began to push me away from the entry. "Okay
Bill, all kinds of things get said at these parties.
It's mostly drunken gossip. Someone thinks they see
something, and it's really nothing at all. I think it's
one of the few times that men are worse than woman.
Guys brag about stuff like that all the time." I could
tell by her tone that Marianne was moving into damage
control mode. She was circling the wagons to protect a
fellow female. "Some guy makes a pathetic pass at a
woman and gets shot down, next thing you know he's
claiming he nailed her - happens all the time. No truth
I stopped and turned to Marianne looking her square in
the eyes. "I saw them. Jack took me for a spin in his
car. We returned through the backyard. We passed right
by the pool. I... SAW... THEM." Marianne's eyes went
Frodo Baggins big.
Marianne hustled me back into the kitchen. "Bill, calm
down - okay? Take some deep breaths. You've been
drinking too. There are plenty of women in all kinds of
black costumes; witches and... witches. Just because
you saw some woman in black doesn't mean..."
"I saw the ruler. Samantha insisted she needed a really
big ruler to complete her costume. I made one for her.
I watched that fucking bastard swat her bare ass with
it. I saw it Marianne." I took a deep breath. "Well, if
she can fuck around, so can I. I am not going to be
some wimpy cuckold waiting for his wife to come home
and pat him on the head like a good little boy. Two can
stray in this game."
"Bill, two wrongs don't make a right - believe me; I
know - been there, been done to, and did it right back.
It doesn't make things better. You said she was
drinking too much tonight. I'm sure that if you sit
down and talk calmly with her..."
I looked at Marianne's fulsome breasts. I reached out
and cupped her left breast and let my thumb trail over
her nipple. That certainly shut her up. I gently
squeezed her breast and stroked her jaw line with my
left hand until my index finger rested on her lips. I
pushed ever so slightly in; she didn't resist.
"I am not going home with my tail between my legs.
You've always acted interested. Well Marianne?" I felt
Marianne's lips slide down the length of my finger. Her
cheeks hollowed as she pulled back. I took that as a
I grabbed Marianne's arm and pulled her out the
backdoor of the kitchen into a quiet side yard area. I
pushed her against the door and kissed her. Her mouth
yielded quickly and out tongues dueled back and forth.
My hands dove beneath the skirt of her toga and I
grabbed her ass. I knelt down stroking my fingertips up
and down her legs as I leaned forward to her cunt. I
stuck my tongue right between her cunt lips. She
immediately arched her hips forward and step her legs
apart. I pushed my right index finger between the lips
of her cunt and sunk it into her wet heat.
With my left hand I spread her lips apart for easier
access to her clit; she moaned loudly at first contact.
I added my middle finger to her cunt. She either was
getting weak in the knees or really wanted my fingers
deeper inside her. I felt the weight of her body settle
onto my right hand. Her clit swelled and hardened as my
tongue lashed back and forth across it. "Too much, too
I knew what to do about "Too much." I pulled my fingers
from Marianne, to her moans of disappointment and
stood. In a moment I turned her around, place her hands
on the door and bent her at her waist. I pushed my
Ninja pants down my thighs. Grasping my cock I aligned
it with her cunt, teasing it up and down her wet lips.
"Hurry, put it in. Please Bill... hurry!"
I pushed oh so slowly forward. I was determined to
experience every tiny millimeter of Marianne's cunt; it
was tight, wet and incredibly hot. "Ummmm, damn your
tight. Been awhile has it?"
"Too long." Marianne dropped her head forward and let
it loll side to side. Suddenly I felt her cunt open up
and I bottom out in her with a grunt. Her cunt
immediately tightened with a strangle hold on my cock.
"I've got you in my clutches now Billy boy."
I fucked her with slow deliberate strokes; marveling at
the control she had over her cunt muscles. I felt her
fingers brush my balls as she diddled her clit. Her
hips twitched and bucked and I felt her muscles clench
around my cock as she came. I withstood the increased
stimulation by pausing deep within her.
I was just resuming our fuck when we heard the sounds
of people approaching from the backyard. I pulled out
of Marianne and tugged my pants back into place.
Marianne opened the kitchen door and we ducked back
inside. She turned and pulled my mouth to hers and
kissing me passionately. I broke the kiss and held her
face in my hands. "This isn't over, Marianne. I'm not
done with you. I am definitely not done with you."
Marianne grabbed a kitchen towel and wiped her wet
thighs dry, she even tugged my pants down and removed
her wetness from my still erect cock. We waited long
enough for my erection to relax, then went off in
search of my wife.
We found Samantha a little later, alone in a bedroom
nearly passed out; her costume was inside out. Marianne
gave me a sympathetic "I'm sorry" look. Somehow we got
Sam to the car for the five minute drive home. Marianne
and I half carried, half dragged Samantha to our
bedroom. We undressed her; I was surprised that Sam had
put her panties back on. I wasn't even tempted to
remove them and look at her cheating cunt. I'd seen
enough of that already tonight.
I kept looking at Marianne's tits as she helped. I got
hard again, but made no effort to cover myself. I
noticed Marianne noticing. With Samantha in bed I
offered Marianne a drink before she walked home.
We never got around to the drinks. She knelt down as
soon as we reached the kitchen and blew me. Marianne
took me completely into her mouth and throat, something
Samantha was less then keen on. I came fast and hard.
But I wasn't stupid either; I told Marianne we needed
to go to her house. I think we made it to her house in
less than a minute.
She didn't even hesitate pulling me inside; I watched
her undress as we walked to her bedroom. She spread her
legs and I dove between her thighs. I wanted to taste
her and she seemed to really enjoy the tasting. Our
first full fuck was fast and hard. While we waited for
my recovery, I fingered her to another mild orgasm. She
sucked me hard and straddled me. She seemed to have
even more control over her cunt when she was on top.
It was a nice slow fuck that built gradually in speed
and intensity. It felt great and she eventually came;
two orgasms in one night are pretty much my limit. I
didn't want to stay too long, so I got up and went
Sam was sleeping peacefully. I was smiling broadly. I
just slid into bed next to my unfaithful wife and
dropped off into a guilt-free slumber.
THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT
I almost convinced myself that I was only going to be
with Marianne that one time. She clearly had other
ideas and I found myself at her house and between her
thighs twice during the next week. It surprised me at
how often and how easy it was for Marianne and me to
get together. Her teenage boys were often gone during
the day on weekends so Saturday and Sunday mornings
seem to work out best.
The best part of this was that Samantha often sent me
to Marianne's. Sam hated coffee, even the smell of it.
So she was more then happy to send me down the street.
Marianne would call Samantha; "Hi Sam. How about
sending Bill over for a Cappuccino? Everything's hot,
all I need to do is steam his milk." I was only too
happy to go.
Depending on the time available Marianne and I had a
whole menu of sexual possibilities to choose from. If
pressed for time, a quick and satisfying session of
oral sex was the specialty of the day. At least once a
month we made the effort to really enjoy two to three
hours of variety fucking; basically anything and
everything. The arrangement seemed to work well for
both of us. Weeks rolled into months and it seemed to
just get easier and better; I know that I had no
Unfortunately, the situation at home was different and
deteriorating. Sam and I seemed to be arguing more
often, and with more intensity. It seemed that our
marriage was headed downhill. Like before, sex was a
major part of our problem. I had to be careful not to
act any different then before. Then, just when I though
we were about to hit bottom, it changed. In the midst
of my fucking Marianne on a regular basis (we were up
to three to four times a week having found a way to get
together Tuesdays and Thursdays): Samantha and I
finally found our sexual groove.
We were right in the middle of a huge heated argument;
my point of view was prevailing and Sam knew it. Then
she did something that really pissed me off; she pushed
me. Sam physically pushed me against the wall - my head
I pointed a finger right in her face and told her that
if she ever did that again I was going to spank her on
her bare ass. She looked at me, then both hands came up
and she pushed me hard enough that I fell backwards to
the floor. I lost it, I grabbed her and wrestled her
over my knee. I pulled her dress up over her ass and
pushed her panties down to her knees. She warned me not
to spank her. "Don't you dare."
She screamed, more from surprised than pain, and
struggled to free herself.
This scream was filled with anger. "Stop it Bill. I'm
"Goddamnit! Stop it you asshole!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I rained my hand on her bare flesh until her ass glowed
with redness and heat. Somewhere in the teens she
stopped resisting and began to hump my thigh; then she
started moaning. What the fuck was that all about? When
my hand was too sore to continue spanking I threw her
face down on our bed and fucked her as hard as I could.
She fucked back against me as hard as I was fucking
into her; she had never done that before.
She started screaming "Fuck!" and nothing but "fuck."
She was almost incoherent, "fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-
fuck..." I didn't know how she was breathing.
Fortunately or unfortunately, I had just come back from
fucking Marianne right before the argument started. I
knew I was going to last a long, long time. I fucked
Samantha like we had never fucked before.
Half a dozen times as I fucked her she asked me to
stop. I might pause to change position of add a little
lube but I was going to fuck her until I was through. I
pushed and pulled Samantha into positions she would
have never allowed before. At one point, I was licking
her cunt to keep it wet and I switched to licking her
asshole, she was saying "no... no... no," but her hips
were moving around like she was tremendously turned on.
I finally began to feel my own orgasm tingle and I
moved Samantha into my favorite position. She was
kneeling on the side of the bed with me standing on the
floor. I had maximum leverage for a final, frantic
fucking. My hips slammed into hers as I held her in
place. My orgasm was huge and I roared in triumph; damn
I fucked her good.
Victory didn't last long after I finally came; I
actually started to feel a little guilty. When I pulled
out of her, Sam's ass was still bright red, her cunt
was stretched open like I had never seen it and my
semen oozed freely from her. Sam is usually quick on
the clean up; instead she just knelt there on our bed,
unmoving, my stuff dripping down her thighs.
Suddenly, I had no idea what to say. I went into the
bathroom to get a washcloth so she could clean up. I
looked into the mirror as the water warmed up; I can't
say I thought I was looking at - nor did I feel like
any kind of a good guy. I had never treated Samantha
like that before - ever. I realized I had to do
something special for her, so I started the water in
the tub. When the water was ready I carefully picked
her up and placed her in the tub. She didn't - or
wouldn't - say a word to me.
I ended up washing her hair and combing it out. I dried
her carefully and laid her on the bed again. Only this
time I gave her a very slow soft massage. Toward the
end of the massage she drifted off into a quiet sleep.
I was watching TV when she awoke. I half expected
Samantha to either call the cops or call a lawyer or at
the very least call me an asshole. Instead we began to
talk. And more than just talk, we really listened to
what the other was saying. When we weren't talking, we
would just cuddle and hold one another. I realized how
much I loved her and needed her.
Marianne called the next day to invite me to coffee, I
didn't go. I called her during the week and explained
what was going on. I was surprised when I heard my
voice suggest we stop seeing one another for a while. I
was relieved when Marianne agreed and said it was time
for her to invite someone else for coffee.
Things between Samantha and I changed completely. Over
the next few days and weeks Sam and I cleared the air
about just every aspect of our lives, or marriage;
everything - but one.
I needed her to confess, so that I could confess - then
I knew we could go forward with a fresh start. I didn't
want either one of us feeling any guilt for whatever we
may have done for whatever the reason we had done it.
Try as I might, she wouldn't do it. I even brought up
the timing of our problems with a vague reference to
the Halloween party. Nothing. I began to suspect that
maybe she just couldn't do it; maybe she felt too
guilty. One thing that had really helped us open up our
communication was to write or tell stories that
illustrated how we saw things.
I decided to write her a story about what I had seen
that Halloween night. I wrote it exactly as it
happened, from fondling the mermaid to witnessing the
tryst between the couple in the garden; then I read it
to her. To say that I was surprised when Samantha
grinned, then smiled and finally began to laugh as I
told my tale, would not be an understatement. I
couldn't believe it, I was stunned. She seemed to be
utterly free of any feelings of guilt. Then she said
something that shattered my world.
"Oh my God Bill, I can't believe that you saw that. I
wonder if they knew you were watching? That would be so
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