I met Cynthia -- "Cindy" to everybody who knew her -- when
we were just freshmen in high school.  It was at the big
Halloween Dance, when my Catholic, all-boy prep school invited
the girls from her Catholic, all-girl prep school to our dances.
It wasn't love at first sight, but by the end of ninth grade we
were "going steady" and were an acknowledged "couple" among all
our friends.
     The whole courtship was sweet and old-fashioned.  We dated
all through high school and went to each other's proms.  We went
to different colleges, but in the same town (Boston), and by our
Junior year, we were living together in an apartment close to her
campus.  We got engaged on Halloween in our Senior year.  We were
married in June, after graduation, ready to live happily ever
after.
     Seven years later, I think we were both surprised to realize
that we weren't really getting along anymore.  There were no
lies, no cheating, no other man or woman -- we just decided that
we didn't want to spend the rest of our lives together.
Fortunately, we had so much history together that we both made
every effort to keep the divorce civil, and we pretty much
succeeded.  The night our divorce became final we went out to
dinner and, afterwards, made sweet, slow, sad love for the last
time.
     We both soon recovered and carried on.  Cindy allowed me to
buy out her equity and keep the small house we had.  I kept my
government job.  She was ready to move on.  She was smart and
aggressive and very good in the real estate business and was soon
living in a downtown hi-rise, up near the penthouse level.  I
dated, but nobody steady.  I began seeing Cindy's picture in the
social pages, attending all the big benefits and dances.
     Then, about three years after the divorce, she called to
tell me she was getting married.  She didn't want me to hear it
from anyone else -- she always had class.  He was a banker and
his family's money came over on the Mayflower.  I wished her the
best and sent over a bottle of Dom so they could toast their
future (I have a little class, myself).
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
     That was about four years ago.
     Then out of the blue, I got a phonecall from Cindy (now
"Mrs. Jonathan Harrison Stewart Packard, III").  She still had
some things stored in my attic and basement and wondered if she
could come over on Saturday to pick them up.
     I didn't have a problem with that, but it was nice talking
to her after so long and, almost like old times, we were goofing
around on the phone, playing it up like it was a big deal and a
major inconvenience for me.  Cindy was playing right along with
me.
     Finally, and totally innocently, she said, "Well, Jake,
maybe I could do something to make it worth your while."
     I knew her and her tone of voice well enough to know that
there was absolutely nothing sexual being implied by that offer,
but it didn't stop my perverted mind from wandering.  Sex with
Cindy had always been fun -- loose and relaxed and uninhibited.
She had even developed a mild submissive streak soon after we
started having sex, and that had provided hours and hours of
total enjoyment for both of us.
     But, as I said, I knew she wasn't hinting at anything like
that, so, trying to stay cool, I replied, "Hmmm, now that you put
it like that -- I believe the bathroom does need a good
cleaning."
     "Oh, yuck, Jake!  It's been a long time since I've done a
bathroom.  Couldn't you think of anything else?"
     I could hear the laughter in her voice.  "No, Cindy.  That
sounds fair to me.  And if you clean the hair out of the drain,
I'll even help you carry your stuff out to the car."
     Cindy laughed, "Oh, gross!" and said it was a deal and she'd
see me Saturday morning.
     When I got off the phone, I took one look at my bathroom and
decided I better get the really gross stuff, myself.  Fun was
fun, but I couldn't ask "The Mrs. Packard" to do the impossible.
I got carried away cleaning that week, so when Cindy rang the
bell on Saturday morning, the place was more than presentable.  I
had even retrieved the things Cindy had mentioned on the phone
and had the boxes dusted off and lined up in the livingroom.
     Cindy looked terrific.  At 35, she was prettier than ever.
She was a mature and very classy woman.  Her life agreed with
her.
     We hugged and she thanked me for getting the stuff together.
Then she looked around and smiled.  "Well, this place doesn't
look too bad.  You're keeping it nice, Jake.  How bad can the
bathroom be?"
     "You don't have to do that, Cindy.  We were just joking
around on the phone.  I won't hold you to it."
     "No, you insisted on the phone and, now, I know I don't have
a choice.  A deal is a deal."
     "You're not really dressed to do bathrooms."  She was
wearing a red silk blouse, a soft khaki skirt, and expensive-
looking loafers.
     "You don't have anything around here I can wear?  May I
check the closet?"
     "Sure.  There may be a pair of old sweats and a sweatshirt
in there."  I followed her into the bedroom and watched her as
she started digging around in the back of the big walk-in closet.
     She stopped looking and exclaimed, "Oh, my!"
     When she turned to face me, she was holding a short "maid's
uniform" that we had bought in Frederick's or some such place.
"Ever get anyone besides me into this, Jake?"
     I could feel myself blushing.  "Why bother after seeing you
in it, Cindy?"
     "How sweet you are!"
     She went back to looking.  "Ah!  Here we go.  Okay, I found
something.  Get out of here while I change."
     When the bedroom door opened, Cindy stepped out in a vintage
`70's outfit.  She had found an old t-shirt and a pair of what we
used to call "running shorts" from her college days.  The t-shirt
was too small and strained itself across Cindy's obviously bra-
less chest.  The shorts were crotch-length and I enjoyed the view
of Cindy's long bare legs from her sexy little feet, up to her
firm, ivory thighs.  She looked very fuckable and stirred some
strong memories.  My cock had a memory of its own and we both had
thoughts of Cindy spread on the bed, her arms around my neck, her
legs--
     "Jake!  Are you alright?"
     "Yeah, sure.  It's not everyday I have one of society's
finest do my bathroom."
     "Forget that `society's finest' stuff -- I'm just the same
old Cindy.  I'm going to start.  Would you get me something to
drink?"
     "Sure, Cindy.  Coffee, iced tea, soda?"
     "Iced tea sounds great.  Thanks."
     I went into the kitchen to get the teas, but my mind was
still thinking about that outfit.  I was sure I had extra sweats
in the closet.  Cindy could have picked a lot of things to wear
instead of that floozy-looking shirt and those short shorts.  And
she had taken her bra off (if she had been wearing one under the
red blouse, which I was pretty sure she had).  Did she pick that
outfit to tease me?  Why?  Cindy had never been a cock-teaser,
and I couldn't imagine Mrs. Jonathan Harrison Stewart Packard,
the third, being one now.  And yet...
     Here she was, dressed in cheap old clothes, cleaning my
bathroom.  And wait... hadn't she said something like "not having
a choice" and that "I insisted" when, in fact, I told her she
didn't have to do anything?
     The horny half of my brain wondered if Cindy was coming on
to me in her old subtle, submissive way.  The rational half told
my horny half to forget it -- she was just doing the bathroom on
a lark, playing along, like on the phone.
     I took the teas and walked down the hall to the bathroom
door.
     My horny half began to win...
     Cindy had her back to the door, bent at the waist over the
tub.  As she scrubbed, I could see her big tits jiggling and the
shirt creeping up (down) towards her neck, risking exposure of
those fantastic beauties.  Her shorts were scrunched tightly
between her legs and ass cheeks, and almost half of her buns were
exposed.  I didn't see any panties.
     I'd like to say I had a rational discussion with myself, but
I went into autopilot.  I knew I was taking a real gamble, but I
put the teas down on the tile floor and stepped behind Cindy.  I
was either going to be a very happy man or on my way to the
police station in a very few moments.
     She didn't stop scrubbing as I approached her and I pulled
the drawstring on my sweats and let them fall to the floor.  My
dick was at full attention and only inches from Cindy's almost-
naked crotch.
     I pulled her shorts back, giving me a little slack, and
pulled the crotch to the side.  Still no reaction from Cindy.  I
didn't see panties or pubic hair.  I groaned in passion and
stepped closer, pushing my steel-hard cock between her thighs and
into her pussy.  I heard her gasp.
     "Oh, Mr. B!  Please don't do this.  I need this job very
badly, but please don't take advantage of me!"
     *BINGO!*
     I knew this little scenario from when we were married.
Cindy was the poor, helpless victim, forced to have sex because
of circumstances.  It had been one of her favorite fantasies and
biggest turn-on all those many years ago.  I couldn't believe it
was happening again!
     Cindy had gripped the side of the tub.  She whimpered as I
slowly withdrew my cock and she almost screamed as I jammed it
back in.  On my second stroke she burst into her orgasm.  She was
totally lost in the intensity and I think the only things holding
her up were my hands on her hips and my dick buried in her cunt.
She felt like a wet towel in my hands.  When she finished, I
pulled out and lifted her in my arms and carried her to my bed.
     As I ripped the old shirt open and tore her shorts down her
legs, she blinked and asked in a pitiful voice, "are you going to
abuse me like this all day, Mr. B?"
     I positioned my cock at her steaming cunt and looked down at
her incredible body (she *HAD* shaved her pussy), "Yes, Ms
Packard, if you want to keep your job, you'll have to surrender
to my wishes all day.  You'll have to do everything I order.
Now, be quiet while I fuck you!"
     I had used some of the magic words and my ordering her to be
quiet were more than enough to send her over the top, again.  To
say that Cindy was "multi-orgasmic" when she was in the mood was
an understatement.
     It was a long, sexy, wet, exhausting day.  After I came that
first time, and every time after that, Cindy would greedily
gobble my gooey, soft cock into her mouth and suck me until I was
hard enough to get it in her pussy, again.  Between fucks, I was
so fascinated by her naked snatch that, no matter how sloppy it
was, I would eat her until she almost passed out.
     Around four in the afternoon, just after we had finished
fucking doggie-style, Cindy rolled over on the cum-stained sheets
and said, "I have to leave, Jake.  Big dance tonight."
     I'll admit I was a little hurt, but I was also looking
forward to catching forty winks before *MY* date that night.
     She surprised me by not showering.  She brushed her heavy,
brown hair and got dressed.  She still looked very much "just
fucked," but, hey, she wasn't my wife!
     In the livingroom, Cindy picked up one of the boxes of her
stuff.  I bent to get another when she said, "No, Jake.  If it's
alright with you, I'll be back next Saturday for another one."
     Surprised, I looked at her, thought about how we had just
spent the last six hours, and looked at the ten or so boxes on
the floor and smiled, "Sure, Cindy.  Next Saturday morning is
fine."  I walked her to the door and patted her behind, "But
don't be late, if you want to keep this job."
     She turned and gave me one of her brilliant smiles, "I won't
be late, Mr. B!" and she was out the door and in her new, shiny,
red Lexus Coupe.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
     That next Saturday, Cindy arrived even earlier.  I "ordered"
her to put on the maid uniform.  She had a body made to wear
cheap, tacky, sexy things.  Her big, round boobs (still amazingly
firm for 35) pushed out the top and sides of the white bib-front.
The short, frilly skirt barely covered her pussy, and since she
neglected to wear the panties, her freshly-shaven pussy was on
display and accessible.  She served my breakfast in the uniform
and then it disappeared as we spent the day in bed, again.
     Even my memory couldn't compare with the actual lushness of
Cindy's body -- full, soft and firm, responsive, hot and moist.
It was made for fucking and that's what I did to it.  My tongue
licked every inch of her, my cock filled her hungry holes.
     She was insatiable and always desperate for more.  By the
afternoon, when I absolutely could not get hard again, she
mounted my face and I buried my tongue in her well-used pussy.
She would come and collapse on top of me, but, soon, she'd mount
me again and I'd savage her cunt and clit until she came again.
     Over and over.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
     Saturday after Saturday.
     We fucked each other's brains out.  Cindy never mentioned
her husband and I didn't ask -- the only mention of him was when
I asked her about her hairless pussy, she said her husband liked
it that way.  She didn't talk about her career, or ask about
mine.  The boxes of her things sat forgotten and got dusty on the
livingroom floor.  There was only one reason she was there.
     I lost weight and added oysters to my diet.  I stopped
dating other women.  I started running again.
     She became more and more submissive, with the intensity of
her orgasms increasing proportionately.  I pulled her by her
thick hair and tied her to the bed.  I would rip clothes from her
body and throw her over a chair to callously fuck her.  I would
order her to swallow my cum or spread her pussy for me.  No pain,
but rough treatment and humiliation were what she wanted.
     I fucked her ass.  We had tried it when we were young, but
it wasn't anything we got in to a habit of doing.  Now, Cindy
would begin cumming as I pulled her asscheeks apart and placed my
lubed cock-head at her tight, little brown hole.
     Maybe because we didn't talk about anything going on in the
"real world," I was able to keep my emotions in check.  For a
while, right after we started fucking on Saturdays, I was worried
that after all those years we had been together and, now, this
intense sex, I was going to fall in love with her all over again.
But it didn't happen.  It was just sex -- great sex.  I liked
her, and I didn't think there could be a sexier woman alive, but
I didn't love her.  Our Saturdays were like some kind of magical
gift for me.  She was a free whore, an automatic fuck-machine, a
bed partner with energy and imagination and enthusiasm, but
without guilt, commitment, or risk.
     It was wonderful.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
     In March, I mentioned to Cindy that we would have to skip a
Saturday.  My poker buddies and I were fanatical college
basketball fans and the tournaments were starting.  I had made
excuses for missing Saturday get-togethers with them all season,
but during the tournament we all took turns hosting a "March-
Madness" party, and it was my turn.
     Cindy asked, "Do I know any of these guys?"
     "I doubt it.  I work with three of them and the last guy was
a friend of one of them.  I'm sorry about re-scheduling, Cindy.
Maybe we could make it on Sunday?"
     "So, what's this `March Madness' party like, Jake?  I guess
you all sit around the TV, drinking beer and eating junkfood?"
     I grinned, "If you add telling lousy jokes, belching and
farting, that's about it."
     "Sounds disgusting.  And you're ordering me to wait on you
and your friends for the entire day, Mr. B?"
     She surprised me, again.  What was she offering?  Just sex
with me while my friends were here, or was she thinking about sex
with all of us?  The more I thought about it, the less I cared
which it was -- I'd get my ashes hauled either way, and I'd enjoy
showing this prime piece of ass off to the guys.
     "Are you sure, Ms Packard?  You'd be prepared for whatever
might happen -- being alone in the house with all these men?"
     She sighed.  "What choice do I have?"
     I played along.  "You have no choice, Ms Packard.  I expect
to see you here, bright and early next Saturday."
     After she left, I began thinking about what might occur the
next Saturday.  None of the guys would object to looking at Cindy
in her little maid uniform, but I wasn't sure they would be up
for a gangbang when actually presented with the possibility.
Jeff was the only single guy, besides me.  Bill, Dan, and Larry
were all (apparently) happily married, although Dan had been a
real "ladies' man" before getting married.  I had to admit, I
wasn't sure what would happen, but I was looking forward to it.
     As far as Cindy was concerned, I was beginning to think
maybe she should be seeing a shrink.  She's a big girl, and if
she wants to fuck her pussy off, that's her business and not my
problem -- I'm more than happy to oblige.  But, now, knowing
there's going to be five men here, next Saturday, and still
willing to come...  I wondered what was going on.  She had a
husband, a great career, a zillion dollars, two or three homes,
everything -- yet she can't seem to get enough of being told to
suck cock.
     Oh, well.  Not my problem.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
     When I got home from the office on Wednesday, there was
something new in the familyroom.  Where my old 19-inch TV had
been sitting was a brand-new 32-inch Sony TV, a VCR, stereo
components, and speakers everywhere -- my very own home theater!
     There was a red ribbon around the TV, and a small card was
sitting on top:
=====
          "Mr. B,
               I was in to re-arrange the furniture,
          today.  I hope you like the results.  See you
          bright and early Saturday.
               Ms Packard"
=====
     I couldn't believe it!  The whole set-up must have set her
back close to three thousand.  I couldn't shake the feeling that
someone was going to knock on the door and say they delivered it
to the wrong house.  I grabbed the remote.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
     On Saturday, the doorbell rang at 7 a.m.
     I answered the door in my robe and smiled when I saw it was
Cindy standing there with a small suitcase in her hand.  I hugged
her and thanked her for the outrageous gift.
     "You're welcome, Mr. B.  Do you need me to help you dress?"
     "Well, Ms Packard, I have to shower, first."
     She started unbuttoning her blouse, "And I guess you'll need
me to help you, there, too."
     We stepped into the shower together, and I took my time
soaping her luscious tits, and then her bare pussy.  She was
moaning and panting.  She soaped my chest and moved down to my
cock and balls.  After she rinsed me off, she knelt under the
spray and took me into her mouth.  It was a fantastic blow-job,
and as it was my first cum since last Saturday, I blew a huge wad
down her throat.  She stayed connected and sucked me dry.  We
towelled off and I sat her on the edge of the sink and ate her
pussy through two orgasms.  The day was off to a great start!
     I cleaned up and got dressed.  Just as I was finishing up in
the bedroom, Cindy walked in from the bathroom.  She had put on
her make-up.  It was heavier than usual and looked sexy.  She was
topless and wearing tiny, black, thong panties, not much bigger
than a G-string would be.  She smiled at me and reached into her
suitcase, pulling out dark stockings and a garterbelt.  I stood
at the doorway to watch this!
     She strapped on the garterbelt and then sat on the bed to
pull on the dark stockings .  When they were fastened in the garterbelt,
Cindy pulled a pair of very high, black highheels from the case,
and stepped into them.  Next out of the case was a plain, black
satin dress.  She held it up with her hands, and let it sinuously
slide down her body -- it was tight and short, but long enough to
cover the tops of her stockings.  The soft, shiny satin
emphasized rather than concealed the fact that her big boobs were
braless under it.  I reached around and cupped and squeezed her
big tits, before zipping her up, when she asked.  Next, Cindy
tied a white, lacy half-apron around her waist and pinned a
matching maid's hat in her shiny hair.
     She looked fantastic!  She looked like she could have been a
real maid or servant, except that the uniform was slightly skewed
to the sexy side -- the heavy make-up, the too high heels,
braless breasts.  Talk about fuckable!
     "You look great!"
     "Thank you, Mr. B.  I'll get everything ready for your
guests, now."
     "I have to run out for beer and chips.  They won't be here
until near noon."
     "Don't worry about food, sir.  I've taken care of
everything."
     Sure enough, she had.  As I had my coffee and bagel, Cindy
re-arranged the table and chairs in the diningroom and put out
plates, napkins, and flatware.  Around eleven, there's a knock at
the door and two guys from a caterer began carrying in food.  I
was enjoying the looks Cindy was getting from the two guys as she
directed them where to put the stuff.  I think she was enjoying
the looks, too.
     Around noon, Larry and Jeff showed up, with Dan and Bill
right behind them.  They couldn't believe my "entertainment wall"
and were positively aghast at Cindy and the buffet.  She stood
ready to serve Buffalo wings, ribs, fried clams and oysters, and
gumbo from chafing dishes, and to slice a large roast beef for
sandwiches.  There were two huge styrofoam coolers filled with
iced Molson Golds and sodas.
     "Christ!  Did you hit the lottery, Jake?" Bill asked as
Cindy popped open a Molson for each of us.
     "Hey, I just wanted to do something special," I said.
     "Well, don't expect anything besides chips and dip at my
place next weekend, guys," Larry said between mouthfuls of clams.
     The games came on and we sat down to watch.  I didn't know
how Cindy wanted this to work, so I waited for some move from
her.  She stayed in the diningroom to serve the food for our
first platefuls.  Then, she came into the familyroom and began
cleaning up behind us.
     As she bent over to pick up a napkin she dropped, her skirt
rose above the top of her stockings and showed her white thighs
and black garterbelt straps.  I knew by that move, Cindy was game
for whatever was to happen.  I felt the eight eyeballs of my
friends snap in my direction after she walked out of the room.
     "Who is she?"
     "Where'd she come from?"
     "Oh, God, did you see those legs!"
     "Legs!  How `bout them tits!"
     They were all talking at once, and I was laughing inside.
Cindy sure knew how to get everyone's hormones flowing!
     "Guys, guys, guys!" I started, gesturing with my hands to
quiet them down.  "I don't know who she is.  The caterer offered
a server for a few extra bucks, and she showed up.  Tell me about
it.  I took one look at those tits and high heels and I've had a
hard-on since she got here."
     Jeff rolled his head back on the sofa, "Oh, God!  I'd love
to crawl between those legs -- leaving the shoes and stockings
on, of course!"
     "Yeah!"
     It wasn't long before Dan disappeared from the familyroom.
Always the pussy-hound, we all knew where he was.
     "Think he'll get laid, Jake?" Bill asked.
     "If any of us do, it'll be that son of a bitch," Larry
chuckled, "he just married an ex-model for Victoria's Secrets,
and he's the one hitting on the caterer."
     A little while later, a very agitated Dan almost ran into
the familyroom.
     "Did you get any, Dan?" asked Jeff.
     "Shhh...  You guys won't believe this!"  Dan was twitchy and
anxious, "we were just talking when Cynthia (that's her name)
began hinting around--"
     "About what?" interrupted Larry.
     "Shut the fuck up and I'll tell you!  Cynthia said she's in
a real bad fix for money -- that's why she's working for the
caterer on the weekends -- and for fifty apiece, she'll stay and
`entertain' us for the day!"
     "Entertain us?  You mean--?"
     "Fifty?"
     "She's a hooker?"
     "Here?  In my house?  My bed?"  This was unreal!
     Dan quieted us down with his hands.  "Yes!  I mean she'll
fuck us or suck us for fifty bucks apiece -- all day!  No, she's
not a hooker -- she's divorced with two kids and she said she
just needs the money real quick.  And, yes, here in your bed,
Jake.  Is that alright with you?"
     "Yeah.  Sure.  I guess."  I was loving this.
     Bill looked at Dan, "What are we talking about, here?  Do
all five of us have to go in on this, or she'll just do the ones
that pay?"
     "Hey, it's no big deal, Bill.  If you don't want to, just
stay here and watch the game.
     Dan whipped out his wallet and flashed two twenties and a
ten, "I'm in!"
     Jeff, Larry and I reached into our pockets.  Larry was short
ten, so I covered that for him.  Bill said he'd pass.  With the
two hundred in his hand, Dan walked out of the familyroom, and
the rest of us couldn't wait to see what would happen next.
     In only a minute or two, Dan returned, holding "Cynthia's"
hand.  "Guys, this is Cynthia O'Toole (her maiden name), -- but
she said call her `Cindy' -- and she's going to entertain us.
Bill, I explained that you weren't participating, and there's no
problem with that."
     He looked at Cindy and she pointed him to the chair, "Please
sit down, Dan."  He sat.  I zapped the TV to "off."
     With a timid smile, Cindy stood at the doorway to the room,
reached behind her and lowered the zipper in the back of her
dress.  The room was so quiet we could've almost counted the
teeth in the zipper, if we had wanted.
     With a shrug, Cindy dropped the dress off her shoulders and
let it silently slide to the floor.  She stood before us in the
thong panties, garterbelt, stockings and heels.  She looked
magnificent -- the personification of every man's fantasies.
     The guys were bleating.
     "Oh, Jesus, what a body!"
     "Oh, fuck!"
     "Let me at those tits!"
     Cindy slipped the strings of her panties over her full hips
and tugged the flimsy cloth down her legs and off.
     I thought she was going to be stampeded when my friends saw
that she had a shaved pussy!
     She walked over to Dan and bent to lower his zipper.  In a
flash, his cock was bare and standing.  Cindy climbed on the
chair and was about to mount him when he handed her a foil-packed
rubber.  With a smile and a quick glance at me, she tore the foil
open and took out the condom.  Then she climbed off the chair and
knelt between Dan's legs.  She placed the condom on the head of
his prick and then proceeded to roll it down the length of his
cock with her mouth!  When it was on, she quickly sat in his lap
and buried his cock up her pussy.
     "Oh, shit!  I'm in.  Here's my fifty!"  That was Bill, of
course.
     As I said, I was no longer in love with her and I knew she
was married, but she had been jerking my chicken every Saturday
for the last six months -- and there was a twinge of jealousy
actually watching her fuck someone else.  Of course, I was more
turned on than I had ever been before.
     After Dan was through, she moved over to the sofa and
mounted Larry.  While they were fucking, Jeff and Bill, on either
side, couldn't wait and the afternoon turned into a gangbang.
     When Larry came, the six of us moved into the bedroom and it
was a free-for-all with her body.  Until she fucked us all out
for the first round, there was always a mouth or hand, or both,
on her breasts, a cock up her pussy or mouth, or both.  With his
second hard-on, Dan slipped on another rubber and rolled Cindy
over to fuck her ass.  One, two, three at a time, she took us on,
over and over, until well past dark when we all took a break.
     The six of us, all naked, sat around the diningroom table,
eating the food and sucking down the beers like it was the most
normal thing in the world for all of us.  Larry even spread some
icing from a chocolate cake that the caterers brought all over
Cindy's nipples and then we all took turns licking it off.
     Dan, as he had her bent over the table and was plowing her
cunt, asked her how late she could stay.  Cindy looked at me, her
big tits hanging, jiggling all over the place in time with Dan's
slapping hips, and said she didn't have to be anywhere until
Sunday afternoon and that she could stay until then, if we would
kick in a few extra dollars and it was alright with me.
     I thought to myself that Cindy had really made plans for
this gangbang if her husband didn't expect her home until
tomorrow.  She had wanted this, all along.  She didn't seem
disappointed with what had happened so far.
     Being single, Jeff had no problem staying the night.  Larry
called home and told his wife he was too drunk to drive and was
crashing at my place.  Dan and Bill left, after each had a
"goodbye fuck" with Cindy, and Dan promised to return Sunday
morning.
     I'm not sure how much sleep Cindy got.  I finally went to
sleep on the single bed in the guest room around 2 a.m., leaving
Jeff, Larry and Cindy in the shower together.
     When I woke up at 9 a.m. the house was quiet and I smelled
coffee.  I showered and dressed, seeing Larry still asleep in my
bed.  On my way to the kitchen, I saw Jeff snoring on the sofa in
the familyroom.  The familyroom and diningroom were spotless.
     Cindy was in the kitchen.  She was wearing a transparent,
white, floor-length gown, presenting her incredible body for
viewing.  She looked showered and fresh and full of energy.  She
kissed me full on the mouth as she poured my coffee.
     "Thanks for letting this happen for me, Jake."
     "Well... I guess you're welcome, Cindy.  Is this what you
wanted?"
     "Yesterday was exactly what I wanted.  I've been wanting it
for a long time, and I'm thrilled that I enjoyed it even more
than I expected to.  They're nice guys."
     I laughed.  "Yeah, especially when they're getting their
dicks screwed off!  What time did you get to sleep?"
     "I didn't!  I was afraid not to clean up, Mr. B.  I'm aware
of my responsibilities."  The devil flashed in her eyes as she
ran her hand up my thigh.  "I hope I didn't miss your morning
erection, Mr. B!"
     She hadn't.
     Sunday was a repeat of Saturday, except without Bill.  Dan
showed up just as Cindy and I were finishing at the kitchen
table, and he immediately took my place.  Before long, Jeff and
Larry rejoined the living and the gangbang was on again.  Cindy
changed the sheets on my bed while the four of us watched, and
then took us on however we wanted to lay into her -- one-on-one,
twos, threes, and even fours.  She never said no, never got
tired.
     None of us men had the stamina on Sunday that we had had the
day before, and around 2 p.m. Cindy was able to shower (alone),
dress, and head home.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
     The following Saturday, Cindy arrived as bright and early as
usual.  In between fucks and oral sex, I tried to get her to talk
about what was going on in her life -- her Saturdays with me,
being a gangbang whore for five guys, her need to be humiliated.
But, as usual, she wasn't talking.
     "Just don't worry about me, Jake.  I'm fine and in control,
and I'm not doing anything I don't want to do.  I like my life
just the way it is.  I don't want to give up my Mrs. Packard life
and I don't want to give up my Saturdays.  I'm keeping it all
straight in my head.  Now, just relax while I blow you."
     "Okay, okay, Cindy--  Ummmm... that's good!  I'll-- ah...
bug off and stay--  oooo... out of your business."
     She stopped what she had been doing and looked up at me,
"Thanks, Jake.  I appreciate it.  One more thing... when can you
arrange another basketball party?"  Then she buried her face in
my crotch, again.
     So, I guess I'll never figure her out, but if that's the
price I have to pay for this, I'm willing to make the sacrifice.
I'll set the next train-pull up for her because I liked watching
her with the other men.  And I'll keep my Saturdays free, because
I didn't get this much sex when I was married!  There's no down-
side, as far as I can see.
     I don't know how long this will last, but while it does,
I've got to be having more fun with Cindy's body than her husband
is!  But, then again, he's the one she shaves her greedy little
pussy for, so who knows?