Make Me Die A Little Ch. 2

We leaned against the hallway wall, recovering our composure after what we'd witnessed. Then, without a word we tip-toed away, back to the living room, where the post-party, post-orgasm silence laid on us like the dark. The apartment seemed vastly empty now. Barbara poured us both some wine, put "Workingman's Dead" on her stereo, and settled down with me on the sofa. The Christmas tree lights twinkled. The candles in the dining room cast a flickering glow. Garcia's ragged voice came forth: "She told me she cared, how was i-i to know-ow-ow. . ." . I smiled ruefully. She told me she cared. I told her what I wanted. How was I to know she really would go fuck another man? I wrestled inwardly with notions of possessiveness, jealousy and macho amore propre I called Jordan my wife--- but did that mean I owned her? Had she not fucked other men before me? Had I not fucked many a woman both before and after we were married? And had I not been fucking Barbara? Why shouldn't Jordan enjoy the same pleasures I did? Did our marriage vows make a difference when neither emotion nor commitment, but only lustful pleasure, was involved?

And what had I felt while watching her? Wasn't that the true test of my reaction? Barbara kissed me. Her words echoed the question in my mind:

"How do you feel?"

I shook my head. "Confused," I said. "Mixed feelings."

"You watched Jordan fuck another man, and it got you so excited that you came--- shot off. Nothing much mixed about that."

Idiotically, I said aloud: "Maybe shot myself in the foot."

She snuggled closer. "You don't mean that."

"No, dammit, I don't," I conceded. "Whatever else comes of it, I love her--- and loved watching her! Watching his prick slide into her! The look of lust in her eyes as he filled her! His prick glistening with her juice! Watching her thrash and cum on his cock as he shot up into her!"

"You're more afraid of the future than what's already happened."

"I can't undo what's happened."

"That's the beauty of extra-marital sex," she said.

Damn Barbara! She was always so fucking smart--- and (a voice in me reminded) vice versa! I was trying to conjure up the guilt I expected I should feel, but Barbara's encouragement was making me hot all over again. Her hand stole down to my cock. "Mmm," she said. "It seems you liked it quite a lot. Didn't you . . .?"

I gave in to my remembered hallway lust. "Did Clinton like Monica sucking on his schlong?"

Barbara's hand was more comfort than passion. We were sexual friends, and I needed a friend now. She milked my cock; I fondled her breasts, her nipples, then opened her jeans and diddled her pussy. Our lips were but an inch or two apart, but we didn't kiss. We talked in breathy whispers, still pleasantly stoned.

"Your pussy's a warm, wet swamp," I said. "Did you know that Paris was founded on a swamp?"

"You're stoned."

"So are you."

Barbara giggled. "Do I have to answer in the form of a question?"

I was marveling at the liquidity of her mouth. "No," I said, in my best Alex Trebekian Canadaquois. "That's why we call the fuckers 'frogs.'"

I paused. "Goooood to have you with us! Now let's move on!"

"The guy works for 'Le Monde,'" she said, and giggled again.

"Really?" I said. "Figures. Jordan loves French cuisine."

"Come on," she said. "Was it his cock? Was it bigger than yours?"

My breath came faster. "Bigger, yes--- but no, not the issue."

"Not jealous?" She plied my cock between her thumb and index finger.

"No," I said truthfully. "I didn't feel we were in competition. The French have never fielded a world-class athlete."

"In tennis they have."

"Tennis isn't a sport. It's a social class."

I smiled as my dancing mind followed that thread. Tennis balls. Furry French tennis balls. The fucking French are such collective assholes. It was a frog that fucked her? OK. Call it Lend Lease. Call it the Marshall Plan.

"So you didn't mind it when he sucked her clit?"

I flashed on the image: a French bath. "No, I loved it!"

"And when he brought his prick to the mouth of her cunt?"

"Poulet provencal!"

"And when he pushed it up inside her?"

"Paupiettes de Veau!!"

"And when they both came-- and you knew he was shooting his cum inside her cunt?"

"Stop it. It wasn't some anti-French thing."

But as I remembered her orgasm, the Marsaillaise went off in my head-- the trumpets, the clashing symbols, the crowd's roar! "Vive La France! Vive La France! Oh Fuck! Dont stop!"

Barbara licked my lips, rubbed her body against mine, and squeezed my cock. "Are we finished?"

I moved my hips against her hand and sighed my admission. "I loved it all, even if he was a frog. Tonight he was the handsome prince. " Then I remembered I was fingering Barbara's slippery cunt. "Besides, I loved feeling you up while we watched, feeling your hand jerking me off. . ."

Still stroking, then, she bent over me then, took my cockhead between her lips and laved it with her tongue. Her upward gaze met mine. "I always wanted to jerk off a Francophobe watching his wife fuck a frog," she said. She engulfed my flaccid, Lilliputian prick in her warm wet mouth, and my mind reeled.

"I'd like to see her do it again," I admitted, allowing myself a sly chuckle. "But preferably, with someone else, next time."

"Chacun a son gout," Barbara replied, her teeth raking my foreskin. "Bon appetit!"

I am a little uncertain of precisely what happened next. I suspect that I may have dozed off ---that the evening's mix of wine and hash and sex had briefly gotten to me. I know at some point I made my way to the bathroom, and when I returned, Jordan was back, dressed and dapper except for her messed up hair, ensconsed with Barbara on high-legged kitchen stools,slurping wine, and acting as if nothing whatever had happened. Okay by me, I thought. The guy she fucked was gone. A bien tot, mother fucker.

"The ghost of Christmas Past!" Barbara laughed as i appeared in the doorway.

"Bah," I replied, with more inevitability than wit. "Humbug."

Jordan's wet boots stood puddling by the air vent. She'd evidently walked her fucker to his car. Sure enough, when she reached out for me, her hand was as icy as the outside night.

"Barbara's invited us to stay over over, honey," Jordan said, toking on Barbara's hash pipe. "It's snowing again--- knee deep, now, and the plows aren't even out. The streets are strewn with abandoned cars."

"So we might as well get ripped," I said happily, taking a toke, thinking "Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus . . "--- and wondering what Old Santa had in his bag of toys.

"Barbara says we can have her room," Jordan said.

She kissed me on the corner of my mouth--- kissed me after she'd sucked that frog's cock. It was almost erotic! The hash had lifted me to a blissful sense of closeness to both women. I passed the pipe to Barbara. She smiled with her eyes and held the smoke inside her. Then she clasped Jordan's hand, and placed my own on top of theirs.

"It's a good feeling we have here," she said, exhaling. "A good thing we have."

At that moment, I think I loved both women. Barbara was in control, and steering us well. Jordan was radiant. She'd just been fucked. More germane, she'd just asserted herself. Her eyes glittered like stars. I had to admit that Barbara was right.

There was a togetherness to our touching hands. I'd fucked them both--- and they both knew that now. I felt--- well, liberated. Out of the closet. Released from constraints. And so was Jordan. Our emotional circuits were off--- or at least on hold. I looked at my wife now through wholly different eyes, as though a new sexual creature had taken possession of her body. As if she was existing apart from me, from us, from our duality--- a new woman. I wanted her now the way a man lusts for a lovely woman he has never fucked.

A delicious thrill ran through me. We'd be sleeping in Barbara's bed--- where I'd fucked Barbara so many times. And I would soon be fucking this new woman's hot, lubricious cunt--- a cunt still warm and wet from another man's hot hard cock! The planets of my mind were spinning--- but beginning to spin in sync.

Jordan played to my reverie. "Wouldn't you like to sleep in Barbara's bed?" she asked teasingly. "I understand you've been doing a lot of other things there. This time, you could be there with me."

I pondered the opportunity. "Hmmm," I said with veiled sarcasm. "Plus a change, plus a la meme chose."

"A votre sante," she replied with a smirk, lifting her wine glass.

"I'd love it," I said, hardly able to contain my lust.

"In the same bed where you've fucked Barbara? . . ."

"Yes, baby," I said softly, "you know that now."

Barbara actually blushed, then recovered her cool, and kissed my cheek. "Much as I love watching you two, it's time for beddy-bye," she said. "I'll sleep in the den."

She drew herself up to her tall, slim height, and smiled archly. "Call me if you need anything."

"Bon soir," Jordan giggled.

It was past 2 by now. Barbara, Jordan and I snuffed the Christmas candles and retired, Barbara to the den; Jordan and I to Barbara's spacious bedroom, where a single candle burned, suffusing the blue-gray walls and bed with a warm amber glow.

I had no sooner closed the door than Jordan turned me around.

"You watched, didn't you?" she asked. "You watched."

There was a flush to her face; a fire in her eyes. Her mouth had a taunting look. Her hair was dissheveled, reminding me again of what I'd witnessed..

"You watched us fuck."

I shrugged--- why not admit it? I nodded. My cock stirred.

"You liked it, didn't you?" she pressed. "You got hot watching that guy fondle me, and take off my clothes, and suck my tits, and lick my pussy . . ."

"Yes," I whispered.

"You saw my cunt wide open before him . . his tongue licking me. You heard me tell him to suck my clit. . . "

"Yes!"

You watched him slide his big thick prick into me. . ."

"Yes!"

"Oh God! It felt good!" Her thumbs sketched circles around her hardened nipples. She smiled lasciviously: "And you loved it, didn't you!"

I hesitated, speechless, then blurted out the truth: "I've never seen anything so exciting in my life!"

Jordan smiled and slowly, brazenly, lifted her skirt, revealing her naked pussy--- she had not put her panties back on. She sat on the edge of the bed--- Barbara's bed--- and parted her thighs and smiled wickedly.

"He licked me here," she said, spreading her pussy lips and rubbing her clit. "He ran his tongue all around me here."

"I know," I said. My cock strained to be free.

"He stuffed his prick here, like this---" She slipped a finger into her cunt.

"I saw."

"You want to stick your prick in me too!"

"Yes!" I cried, as I shucked off my clothes.

"The way you've done with Barbara!"

"Yes!" I was naked now, stroking my stiff prick as she fingered her pussy before my hungry eyes.

We were on the same wanton wavelength now, engorging each other's sexual hunger with the recollection of what she'd done and what I'd seen. And through our eager eyes, we watched each other get hot--- and hotter. Her breath came in gasps and hisses.

"I loved it, you know" she said. "Loved feeling his hot, hard prick in me. Feeling it move, and push inside me. Feeling it pumping in and out of me--- and all the time knowing that you were outside watching!"

"I know you did, baby."

A drop of fluid oozed from the tip of my cockhead. Jordan leaned forward and licked it off.

"Barbara was with me. She watched too. I stood behind her and held her tits as she jacked me off!"

“You finger-fucked her?”

“Yes,” I replied.

She licked my fingers. "I can taste her."

We tumbled onto Barbara's soft silk bed quilt. Jordan stroked my prick as our lips met and our tongues tangled.

"She jerked your prick like this," she said, her fingertips skating over the soft silky skin of my cockshaft.

"Yes!" I answered. My hands fluttered over her body, caressed her buttocks, the inside of her thighs, her hot, tumescent pussy, as my mouth devoured her milky tits.

"You loved it," she gasped. "You loved watching me fuck him, didn't you!"

"Yes!"

"And you shot off in Barbara's hand when he shot off in me!"

"Oh God, yessss!"

Jordan's hips heaved beneath my fingers. "It was so fucking good," she breathed. "It makes me so fucking hot thinking of it now! Knowing you watched! And Barbara jacked you off while you fingered her hot fucking cunt. She's fucked so many guys, and you've been fucking one of them . . ."

The erotic quotient of fuck-words gave way to a sudden realization of where we were. I could smell her perfumes, felt beneath me the silky quilt on which i'd fucked her so many times. I saw her in my mind's eye, stretched out on the bed, her long legs spread, her slim, chestnut pussy only inches from my throbbing prick. She was a living presence in the room.

"You like to fuck her, don't you?"

"She's a wonderful fuck," I replied, sliding a finger into Jordan's hot and hungering cunt .

"Tell me about her," she husked.

She wanted graphics, not feelings or emotions. "She straddles my hips and parts her cunt lips. Then she sits down on my prick."

Jordan moaned. "And she grinds down on it . . .?"

"Yes," I said. "Walks it into her cunt."

Jordan's hand pumped my prick. "Oh, God, I bet it feels so good!. . . soft and hot and wet, like mine?"

"Different,"I said, and groped for words. "Quicker, slimmer . . .She closes her eyes and wriggles, where you look at me and heave up to meet my strokes--- "

"Like I did with that guy . . .."

The recollection fueled my erection. Suddenly, Jordan drew away and propped herself on an elbow. Her eyes were wild with lust.

"Go get her," she said. "I want to watch you fuck her--- just like you watched me."

The abruptness of her order left me stunned. Did she mean it? Women often dwell on fantasies they would never dream of realizing. Was it the hash and wine? A zonked out fantasy? But this was no longer fantasy. Jordan now knew that I'd been fucking Barbara--- and the idea of fucking her in front of Jordan drove me mad. Jordan's words dispelled remaining doubt.

"All the time that guy was fucking me," Jordan said, "I thought of you fucking Barbara here. Fucking, licking, sucking--- the whole thing. Now I want to see it: your tongue in her pussy; your prick pushing into her. I want to watch you jerk and squirt and shoot inside her while she convulses on your prick--- just as you saw me."

One last nagging question needed to be answered.

"What about you?" I asked. "If I bring her in here, what will you do?"

Jordan squeezed her pussy lips around her clit and moaned. "I'd like to fuck her too," she said.

I wasted no more time. Slipping from the bed, I turned at the door for a last, loving look. Jordan lay naked in the flickering light, her legs spread wide, one hand diddling her clit, the other twisting her own hard nipples, her eyes, ablaze with lust.

"Bring her here," she hissed, " . . .and fuck her for me!"

"I'll be right back," I said, and padded down the hall.

Barbara lay curled up in the same daybed where Jordan had fucked the stranger. She was naked except for a light yukata robe, and that was open breast to thigh so that the dark nest of her pussy was plainly visible. I felt a stirring deep inside me; my cock began to rise. And then I discovered that she only looked to be asleep. When I kneeled beside her bed, her hand snaked out in the darkness and gently grasped my cock. She took my hand in her other hand, parted her thighs, and placed it on her pussy.

"I knew you'd come," she whispered. "Get in bed and fuck me ---fuck me with Jordan in the next room! I want to imagine her listening, with your prick in me."

"I've got better things in store," I said. "Come with me. She wants to watch us fuck."

"Oh Jesus!" was Barbara's only answer.

Barbara's bedroom seemed even more enveloping than when I'd left it. The single candle still flickered atop the dresser, casting its golden glow on the blue silk quilt and curtains. Jordan lay as i had left her, sprawled naked, silent diddling her exposed cunt, staring up at us with lust-filled eyes. I removed Barbara's robe. She lay down beside Jordan and they gazed into each other's eyes. We knew, the three of us, that something singular was about to happen--- that whatever followed, this moment, this ineffably intense first time, would never come again. It seemed as if our souls were flowing together.

There was a moment's hesitation, as if they weren't quite certain what to do. Then Barbara reached out. Her fingers caressed Jordan's hair, her cheek and throat. And then, without a word, Barbara rolled on her side and, still gazing into Jordan's eyes, began diddlingher own pussy just as Jordan was doing.

The heat, the eroticism, was palpable. I stood at the foot of the bed and stroked my prick, marveling at the mystery of their differences. Barbara's breasts were small, the nipples pert and pale; her pussy hair, a thick black thatch; the lips, the swollen clit peeking out above them, were long and slender, like her body. I realized then how much she resembled the actress, Sybil Shepherd, and wondered in my hash-smoked daze if Shepherd's cunt looked like Barbara's. By contrast, Jordan's breasts were fuller, the nipples hard as wine grapes; her cunt hair was silky brown; the lips, full pouty and slightly parted, like her mouth. Her clit pulsed with her heartbeat. Two cunts; two pairs of breasts--- so similar, I mused, and yet, two wholly different women.

I reached down, took Barbara's hand and laid it on Jordan's pussy mound, then put Jordan's hand on Barbara's mound. Slowly, ever so gently, they began to frig each other. Their excitement rose. Their tempo quickened. Barbara rubbed Jordan's clit, took it between her fingertips and jerked it like a tiny prick. Jordan moaned, slipped a finger into Barbara's cunt, and Barbara mewed along with her. Coming together, they kissed, open-mouthed. Their tongues entwined as they finger-fucked each other. I wished I had two cocks so that I could fuck them simultaneously. I longed to feel their bodies pressed to mine, their wringing cunts wrapped around my buried prick. . I'd had enough of watching. I knelt on the bed, parted Barbara's thighs, and went down on her. My tongue feathered over her clit, as light as butterfly wings, while Jordan fingered her own cunt. Barbara gasped. "Oh God!" she whispered in Jordan's ear. "He's eating me! His mouth is on my cunt! His tongue is on my clit!"

"Do it!" Jordan said. "Lap her hot wet cunt!"

My tongue tip licked her aching pussy lips, darted like a snake into the fleshy tunnel of her lust, danced up and down, all over her clit--- then flickered there like a hummingbird sipping at a flower. Two fingers eased inside her cunt and rubbed its forward wall behind the pubic bone. My lips closed around the swollen bud and sucked it into my mouth.

"Your husband . . . your fucking husband's on my clit!" she gasped.

"Fuck his tongue!" Jordan crooned.

"Yes, fuck my tongue," I mumbled, as best I could.

Our words tumbled over each other. In the flickering candlelight I reached my free hand out and slid two fingers into Jordan's sopping cunt.

Two cunts, my fingers in both. My mouth suckling one's clit! We were animal now, tangled in a manic dance of lust, and starting to go sexually amok.

"Fuck her!" Jordan grunted. "Shove your prick in Barbara's cunt!"

I moved up over her. My engorged cockhead nestled between her eager pussy lips. I thrust and Barbara groaned.

"Oooooh God! He's in me! His prick is in me! Ooooh . . .ooooh . . . deeper . . . oh God! It feels so good!"

"I'm fucking her," I whispered to my wife. "I'm buried in her cunt."