All My Fault

Sometimes I do it all wrong. I ought to have known there was a problem when the biggest villain in the city invited me to visit his place for a meal. I knew him vaguely having done a couple of dodgy deals but I wasn't exactly a buddy of his. Mickey isn't the sort of man you say no to; there was no way I could have refused to go.

The wife and I turned up at the club he uses as his head office in good time. She seemed to think she was about to meet celebrities and had done herself up sexy and eye-catching. Her top looked like a piece of gauze, completely see-through letting everybody see how tiny her bra was, hardly covering her tits. Her skirt was a bit too tight and though it wasn't that short had a slit in the side that showed off her stocking tops. Martha was a quiet woman who left me to bring in the bread without questioning where it came from. Looking at forty years old next birthday she had kept herself in good condition but remained the archetypal housewife and mother – not a glamourpus.

Some of Mickey's goons met us at the door and we were guided to a very nice room at the back, which was set out as a dining room-cum-board room. All went well to start with the big man complimenting my wife on how nice she looked. We all sat down, that is, me and the wife, Mickey, and several of his more ugly gorillas and a couple of businessmen with whom I wasn't acquainted. Martha didn't seen worried about being the only female in the room, indeed she enjoyed the attention though in her customary shy way.

We had a nice but small meal, tastefully and expertly prepared by his personal staff. The drinks flowed freely and he had some good quality stuff. All was well and we had a good time laughing a lot. Martha went giggly and coy a couple of times when she saw men openly admiring her tits through her gauzy open woven top but she made it very clear that she was enjoying herself and smiled back in a coy way that seemed to signal that she quite fancied some of the men there.

Then I sensed a change in mood. Mickey told me the tale, one I had heard many times before from locals who had almost turned him into a folk hero, of the fate of the man who a couple of years ago had tried to cheat him.

"We got hold of the bastard and explained the error of his ways. Then we pulled down his pants!"

(At this point Mickey apologised in advance to my wife for the detail he was about to relate)

"We took down his pants and inserted up his rectum a decent length of plastic piping, you know, the sort plumbers use for the gas and water supply – half inch bore stuff. He fucking screamed a bit!"

(Mickey and his henchmen laughed very loudly)

"Then we fed a piece of barbed wire into the tube and up his arse! Guess what we did then Gerry? We pulled the fucking plastic tube out and left the barbed wire inside. We could have used razor wire but hell – it wasn't that bad a crime and I do have some compassion. Anyway – we still made him dance!"

They all went crazy laughing and knocking back their drinks. I forced a laugh but Martha was stunned and had a blank face. Actually I was scared because I knew this was leading up to something very bad for me.

Mickey threw a piece of paper at me and his face was stern.

"Remember them? A little company you did some business with a while ago. You decided to economise with the merchandise I think – cut corners - maximise profits. The quality was far from being satisfactory."

He stared at me and so did the men in suits. "Oh shit!" I thought - now it had become clear as to why I was here. Yes I had supplied a new company with some raw materials and after the third consignment had sort of, well...made adjustments to the specifications.

Mickey smiled but not nicely. "You didn't know I had an interest in the company Gerry? You didn't know how silly you were being?"

I slowly shook my head like a naughty schoolboy would. Of course I didn't fucking well know I was cheating on the local gangster! Mickey had his finger in lots of pies and probably this firm was a front – somewhere to launder his money or use as a legitimate front for the taxman and police as was the nightclub. I didn't dare waste his time and insult him by denying my indiscretion.

"Mickey – I'm so sorry – if I'd known...!" Hey, we all look for an opportunity to make a little extra, you know? This time I have made a terrible mistake – I will put it right!"

Mickey looked at me for a long time but said nothing.

"What do you think Mrs Porter? Can you think of anything your husband might offer by way of compensation? Besides of course making financial amends. What can be offered to me – and my friends – as a sign of the regret and the remorse he feels for showing such disrespect?"

Martha told him that she had no idea but only looked vaguely concerned and smiling vacantly carried on sipping from her glass. The room was silent and still as Mickey slid to a chair next to my wife waving the henchman away. His hand stretched out and stroked Martha's cheek making her hand stop suddenly holding her glass just an inch away from her lips. His hand caressed her face working it's way down to the side of her neck.

"You have no ideas whatever?"

"No," she said feebly looking at the table directly in front of her. She lifted her gaze and her eyes darted around the room meeting the stare of every man in the room. As she returned her eyes to glance sideways toward Mickey he let his hand drop further rubbing the back of his hand over her right tit. I started in my seat but dared not retaliate or complain.

Martha shook her head and repeated that she did not know what to say letting her eyes now dwell on watching Mickey's hand which now turned to let the tips of his fingers play over her nipple which was protruding erect from the thin material; she did not even attempt to protest or struggle. All the table silently watched Mickey play with Martha's tits, rubbing gently, then squeezing just the nipple rolling it in hid fingers, then moving over to torment her other breast. Every few seconds she gave a brief gentle but startled hiss as her body straightened when the man squeezed just a little too tightly. He joked that he ought to be careful not to make her sore by giving all his attention to just one tit. Martha actually smiled slightly as she agreed accepting another drink and sipping without being concerned that she was being mauled.

Every few seconds or so she would let her eyes flit around the room checking on who was still watching – they all were, but she didn't react or become upset. The fear of what Mickey might do to me was paling into the background now as I witnessed Martha's unbelievable coolness and consent to allowing the big man to tease her tits openly around that dinner table to amuse his lewd audience. Still she looked only coy and shy and mildly embarrassed giving little titters and laughs as she answered Mickey's questions designed to amuse her or make her feel self-conscious when she would giggle covering her face partially with her glass. He asked her if having her breasts played with felt nice to which she turned her head away shyly. He told her she had a marvellous figure and she thanked him but reddened when he got the other men to agree and remark on how beautiful her tits were.

"I think we'd like to see more!" he said and she drew in a deep breath bashfully avoiding showing her blushes – but still smiling and without resisting.

"Honestly!" she cooed, "You're embarrassing me!"

"So do you think it wise of your husband to try to cheat us?" Mickey asked.

"No," said Martha, softly.

"So then, you think it's justified and fair that we make him suffer, punish him."

Martha showed just a glimmer of concern before looking thoughtful and offering a quite unexpected response.

"I suppose so – if you mean ridiculing him – like you are now – then it will settle your differences."

"And you, as his wife are prepared to act as the implement we can use to gain our revenge?"

She didn't answer.

"Of course we could just give him a good beating."

"No!" cried out Martha, "Not that!"

"So you'd prefer to settle the debt yourself – by using other means?"

He laughed as he tweaked her nipple making her tense and she squirmed, half-closing her eyes drawing in air. She offered nothing more; no opinion on the situation, nor did she plead for clemency and forgiveness on my behalf but she was happy to answer the lewd and personal questions as regarded her predicament and made light, by grinning sheepishly and blushing shyly at the sexual banter and observations made my the men.

"Are you wearing stockings Martha, I can see a band of black nylon through the slit of your skirt?"

"Yes," she answered.

"With a suspender belt – I really like to see women dressed in sexy underwear?"

"No – they are hold-ups, self supporting."

Mickey had pulled his chair up close to my wife and had placed an arm around her shoulder, still groping her tits whilst everyone watched. He gave little pecks on her cheeks and neck and was becoming more and more intimate.

"Hey Bill – you like the feel of a woman's nylon clad thigh - come and sample Martha!"

I felt belittled and cowardly sat helplessly watching for the amusement of all, the businessman in a slick suit called Bill roared and marched over to take a seat on the opposite side of my wife. I was unable to see as the table was in the way but he grinned in a dirty fashion, both men looking down then Bill's hands went beneath the table. I imagined he was feeling up the skirt of my wife but it was more than that. Ashamed and shocked I saw her lift her body ever so slightly like she was assisting the man to pull her skirt up over her thighs. The other men on the same side of the table could see all that was happening and smirked. Martha made a short squeaky sound and again drew in a deep breath; she did not look upset, merely embarrassed.

"Lovely legs – lovely thighs!" the man Bill enthused in a dirty whisper. His hands were busy under the table.

Lots of discreet moans and sighs came from the mouth of my wife but neither the sounds nor her body language betrayed any evidence that she was distressed. At one point she stiffened up suddenly making me wonder where the hand of Bill was exploring but though her cheeks coloured up red I saw her hand calmly reach out to pick up her drink and take a sip. Her only concern seemed to be careful not to spill her cocktail.

Mickey went to town ridiculing me, pointing out to the others my impotence and inability to stop what was going on. He lectured me in the error of my ways in between making Martha answer and respond to his depraved comments and admit how naughty she was. She never answered when it was frequently suggested she was enjoying it and getting turned on, but neither I noted did she bother to deny it.

There was great amusement when Mickey made my wife really embarrassed by making her look at the crotches of all the men telling her how she had made them all 'get hard' and he informed her that one of his henchmen, a monster of a man had a 'dong' to match his size. Would she like to see it?

"Show the lady your attributes!" Mickey shouted to the cackling man.

A hand was placed on my shoulder – just in case I found the courage to intervene – and held me firmly down in my seat. Martha was shocked but still she displayed that slight look of intrigue and excitement given away by the way her lips so easily slipped into a faint smile. She cried "No!" but almost good humouredly as her face was forcibly held making her head raise and watch the man standing wide legged a few feet from the table, unzip his fly and extract a very big semi-erect penis from his pants.

A roar went up and all applauded. Martha was made to look but she did not offer much complaint, her attention and concentration was quickly captured.

"What do you think of that Mrs Porter – isn't that an amazing specimen?"

I was shocked and dismayed to hear her happily agree, smiling a little as she said in a very soft and low voice, "Yes – it is!"

"Hey guys – she's likes what she sees!"

Another loud roar went up in the room and whatever Bill's hands were doing made her jerk her body and utter a cry. Mickey forced her, by holding her chin in his big hand, to watch the ape as he exhibited and tossed his cock in front of her, pulling the foreskin back and making her cry out when he pointed the tip toward her stepping near to her.

"What would that feel like inside you?" Mickey spit, down her ear.

There was tenseness in the air now as Mickey motioned 'Dong' to step even closer. I saw the other men lick their lips and widen their eyes as they watched with smirks. 'Dong's' swollen penis was inches away from Martha's mouth. Mickey's large hands applied just enough pressure to her cheeks to force her to turn her face to directly meet the enormous cock. The gangster did nothing else – the anguish and horror that ran through my bones was all down to the actions of my wife – the voluntary easy willing way she let her lower jaw drop and opened her mouth - as her eyes watched, with interest, the red end of the approaching penis. She had not been forced or neither goaded nor had there been any attempt to persuade or threaten. My wife had opened her mouth gladly and eagerly to welcome the large cock between her lips.

A cry of protest went up when Mickey covered her mouth and kissed her. Excited he proclaimed that she had proved to us all just how willing and obliging she was prepared to be – and what fun they would all have.

They all found it so funny then Mickey became bored. The big man told her and the room that it was time to really make amends and effort to settle the debt. They all went quiet with a look of excited anticipation.

"Go and sit on the couch while we work out how much cash your husband needs to pay back!"

Martha simply obeyed and rose from the chair, with an amazing presence of mind and coolness to remember to take her drink with her.

"Keep her entertained boys!" shouted the gangster to two of his men.

'Big Dong' and another perched either side of my wife. To my consternation she happily held out her glass when one tipped a bottle offering her a refill. I would have signed my life away to Mickey at that point because I was only half listening to him – in spite of the fear of having to wear concrete boots and visit the river I had become more perturbed by seeing my wife so easily induced into letting herself become part of the recompense for my cheating ways. How calm and comfortable she seemed resigning her body to the mauling and groping of other men.

She moved her arm so Dong could all the more easily reach over to play with her tits while the other one watched and stroked her belly giving her frequent kisses to various parts of her face and neck, then he would copy the movements of his pal and play with the tit nearest him in unison. She let her foot slide forward when a hand went inside the slit of her skirt and just looked down at her midriff, almost with a detached amusement as they told her boyishly they wanted to see her lovely legs and stocking tops, heaving up her skirt. The only alarmed sound she made was when her drink almost toppled over.

She actually protested – about the danger of spilling her drink and their clumsiness as they alternately turned her face toward them for a kiss on her lips. The greasy back haired one took the glass from her hand and now she protested no more as they recommenced kissing her lips, dirtily and sloppily. The hand inside her skirt went higher but she didn't seem to mind. Her own hands rested on the men's' forearms and didn't bother to protect her honour. Mickey made me sign forms and agreements while the businessmen went over paperwork and made suggestions.

Concentrating on Mickey for a while – at his strong suggestion – I eventually let my eyes and attention drift back to watch my wife being 'entertained'. There was other hustle and bustle in the room beside the loud voices of Mickey and the businessmen and two waitresses from his bar periodically rushed in to clear away the crockery and bring more drinks and coffee. Martha, now accepted and chose a liqueur and though the waitresses were trained not to be shocked at things they witnessed Martha wasn't but nevertheless let the hand playing with her tits remain teasing her nipples while she smiled at the girl and took the small receptacle from her hand.

Now, between kisses my wife was actually exchanging comments with the men – making small talk! She faced whichever guy she spoke to whilst they carried on their little conversations. How surreal it was for me to watch giving that one had a hand up her skirt and the other toyed with her tits. Her expression was pleasant like when she spoke to guests at parties! She didn't mind the interruptions when one of them had the urge to thrust his tongue into her mouth and always let her head bend the right way to accommodate them, turning sometimes directly from one to the other.

The coffee was brought by a young uniformed waiter who leered at Martha enjoying the sight of her being touched up. As he placed a tray on the small table near the couch Martha's eyes met his as he took in every inch of her body dwelling on her exposed thighs. He lifted his gaze and as their eyes locked her look was flirtatious as though she was saying, "Do you like what you see?"

She let her head turn to Dong all by itself to seek and receive a kiss and I saw her body relax and go limp letting the men continue their sexual roaming of her body. The bulging fist of the man up her skirt was visible at her belly. She squirmed and it was a mite too much for her so she eased him away by taking his wrist. Another few seconds and he was at it again clearly trying to invade her vagina with his fingers, she wriggled and pushed him away, but in a careful way.

The next attempt made her break away from the kiss of Dong as she encountered more resistance from the man. She pushed her hand against his thick arm and looked down at what he was doing under her skirt. She gave a little cry – her eyes seemed half closed. I distinctly saw her as she tried - weakly and without determination – to push away the hand from her crotch letting her fingers close around the lower forearm sticking out from the split in her skirt. As she tried and failed, her attempts becoming less forceful each time, she watched the movements going on under her clothes all the time her eyes half closing then opening to dart around the room. If she saw me looking back it did not register or cause her alarm or embarrassment – but her gaze hesitated when she noted other men looking on.

Her eyes went back to the movements at her crotch and her hand changed from pushing to opening her hand and wrapping her fingers around the forearm. Was she about to violently tug the man's hand away and scream? Not at all!

Martha lifted her eyes to watch the other movement of Dong's fingers teasing her nipples; she bent her head to look at Dong as though thoughtful before returning to gaze down at her crotch. Her eyes more than half closed and a smile appeared from one side of her mouth at the same time as her fingers, not forcing but stroking the forearm began what was almost a caressing up and down action then cupped the invading bulging fist over her gusset. With a deep exhalation she let her head fall back and to my sorrow let it rest on Dong's wide shoulder opening her mouth and 'asking' for a dirty kiss. She had just submitted to having her cunt fingered and was clearly finding it pleasurable.

The time passed painfully slowly. I had to keep track now of what Mickey and his partners were saying whilst at the same time feel compelled to watch my wife writhing on the couch between the two men. It came to end only when Mickey raised his voice and returned to his original seat the far end of the table. My wife remained still, slouched in the arms of the men who waited for instructions – why didn't she sit up and at least try to maintain her dignity?