Chapter 2

Not having an idea of what her husband was planning Kelly approved the guest list of thirty people knowing that everybody wouldn’t be able to come. “It’ll be a formal affair,” Corey told her never mentioning Warren Thatcher’s name.

With a sparkle in her eye, she said, “You’re not going to be having a Chippendale guy coming, are you?”

“No baby, nothing like that. I’d be afraid that you would be more receptive to him than I was to your surprise.”

“Wimp,” she said with a chuckle and a wink. “I prepared myself for that but didn’t know what I would have done had I actually seen her go down on your cock or sitting on it.” Her laughter was unconvincing.

When they walked into the lobby of the swank hotel the large sign read, HAPPY BIRTHDAY KELLY MATLOCK. Corey wore a tux and Kelly was dressed in a long, backless, black gown, wearing no bra. The dress was low cut exposing her elegant cleavage which was highlighted by a simple string of pearls. The gauzy fabric of the dress showed the imprint of her large nipples. Her smooth, tight hips announced, “I’m wearing no panties.” She was a fanatic about fitness and wanted to prove that at fifty she was remarkably well-toned. With nervous anticipation, Corey thought, Was she serious when she joked about sex with multiple partners? We’ll soon find out.

As they approached the suite the door was open. With a nervous smirk, Kelly looked at her husband. So little noise was coming from a suite where so many people were supposed to be gathered triggered an alarm that steeled her for disappointment. “Are you sure the invitations were clear, Corey?” When they entered the large suite where just three men were standing by the bar, Kelly looked at the men dressed in tuxedos. Suspicion began forming in her eyes as she peripherally glanced at her husband. Looking full on she recognized Phillip and Mike, the men who were at Marta’s dinner party ... two men who had participated in Marta’s gangbang. But where are the women? “Corey?” And who is the other man? “Corey?”

Both nursing drinks Phillip and Mike stood side-by-side. A third man with his back turned to them and stood at the bar. She couldn’t understand where the other people were. This is supposed to be a couple’s party... and why isn’t Marta here? Her stomach dropped as she became shrouded with an incredible sense of Deja Vu. “COREY?” The man at the bar reached out to grab the neck of a champagne bottle that was wrapped in a towel. He twisted it, muffling a pop, and began filling the five flutes lined up on the bar. “C-o-r-e-y?” Kelly asked again, this time with an anxious, trembling little girl voice.

The man at the bar turned and faced her. With a broad smile, he said, “Your champagne, Mrs. Matlock,” handing her the glass. Then, as if he were the waiter, he served the rest of them. Kelly’s presence of mind hadn’t yet caught up with her. But the man’s voice was beginning to register.

“To the fifty wonderful years of your life Kelly Barclay,” he said using her maiden name. Raising his glass, he added, “ ... and the three wonderful years of our youth.”

It was like she had raced through a dark tunnel at light speed when recognition finally hit her in the face. “WARREN THATCHER, ” she exploded. Her eyes locked on her husband’s then swung to her old boyfriend’s, “WARREN ... COREY?” Like a serial camera, Kelly’s eyes clicked on Thatcher’s face; it was almost like you could hear the motor of the camera advancing the frame. “WARREN!” She looked in disbelief at Corey then Phillip then Mike ... again at Corey. The muscles in her jaw rippled and flexed, color draining from her face before crimson tinged her cheeks again. “Oh my God,” she whispered then, “Oh My GOD!”

Holding his glass high Corey said, “To Kelly and the gang.” Three men echoed his toast and drank. But Kelly was too astonished to drink. Like a deer frozen by headlights on a country road, she was unaware of how her headlights, braless under the thin fabric of her gown were shining on their own.

Corey nodded to Warren who walked over and wrapped Kelly in a bear hug. Lifting her off her feet he looked over at Corey to be sure that second thoughts would not change his conviction. Corey nodded and winked. Putting her down, Warren lifted her chin and kissed her lips. Kelly’s eyes peered into her husband’s to make sure. Accepting his nod as a command Kelly allowed the kiss and let sweet memories of a distant past frolic in her mind. Exhaling the pressure in her lungs she opened her lips for the tongue of her once sweetheart to again take its place in her mouth.

As Phillip, Mike and Corey looked at each other and grinned Warren’s hands dropped to Kelly’s tight bottom, pulling her firmly against him. Breaking the kiss, she looked again at her husband and asked, “Corey, are you sure?”

With emotions mixed with excitement and jealousy the stirring in Corey’s groin was undeniable. Through all the planning and fantasizing he had sucked up the fear of what could be wrong about this ... that he might lose his wife to her original lover. “Why don’t you and Warren go into the other room Kelly,” indicating the open door of one of the bedrooms with his eyes and the movement of his head. “Maybe you would like to catch up on some old times.” With a chuckle of false bravado, he went on, “And take care of some unfinished business.” To Kelly, he added with a forced smile, “You’ve talked about it, Honey ... you know?”

Looking at Kelly Warren grinned at her and asked, “You have?” Too embarrassed to respond Kelly’s cheeks turned bright red and with a demure smile she nodded her head. “Corey?” she asked again, this time with a whimper. Though his gut was tight, and his knees quivered he waved her in with his hand. With Warren holding her hand she hesitantly followed him into the bedroom.

When the door closed Philip and Mike looked at each other and said, “Well there they go.” To the crestfallen Corey, he laughed and said, “Don’t worry, pal, you are setting us up for a hell of an evening.” Mike echoed, “One hell of an evening.”

Mellow from having imbibed the smooth Dom Perignon the three men took off their jackets and loosened their ties. At first, there had been nothing behind the door but silence. But within five minutes they heard giggling and laughter then silence. Soon they could make out the cooing sounds of Kelly’s pleasure.

With unsure feelings but a rock-hard erection Corey glanced at his compatriot’s crotches, making out the bulges of their hardening cocks that were dangling in their pants like bananas. When he heard the urgent sounds of Kelly’s ecstasy mixed with grunts from Thatcher and then yelps from both behind the door it was all he could do to keep from creaming his jeans. Resisting the urge to barge in and stop the ravishment of his wife he settled his breathing. Soon there was no sound at all.

Throughout the vigil Mike and Phillip shared knowingly looks, enjoying the preamble to what promised to be the kind of preposterous sex they loved. Knowing that Corey was nervous Mike patted his shoulder and said, “It’s going to be great, Corey.” He winked and added, “From my experience, most women take at least a couple of times to get used to this kind of party. Your wife, however, seems to have fallen right into it. She’s such a hot fucking woman.”

Nodding his head in agreement Mike said, “And by bringing Warren into the mix, pal—her high school boyfriend—that was a stroke of fucking brilliance.” Lifting his glass he reiterated, “Absolute brilliance.”

When the door opened Thatcher—grinning like a naughty teenage boy—came through first. His coat was off, his bowtie hanging loose; the front of his black tuxedo trousers showing white flecks of semen. Behind him, with the look of a little girl who had just been caught disobeying her father’s rules, Kelly followed. Her lipstick had been kissed off; some of it had been smeared on Warren’s white underwear that was framed in the gaping fly of his black tux. Her lovely auburn hair, which had been done up in a classic French twist when she and Corey had come in, had fallen around her shoulders. Her black silk dress was wrinkled from the waist down and her breasts appeared enhanced, her nipples having become huge bumps poking the delicate fabric. With her eyes lowered and her shoulders slumped she walked to her husband in a guilt-ridden, naughty dog creep. Draping her arms over his shoulders she looked up with a ‘forgive me honey’ expression. But in a voice, husky with sexual exertion, and said, “Corey,” She shook her head in disbelieving awe and said, “You are such a naughty, naughty husband.”

When she kissed him, her lips were incredibly soft, the way all women’s lips are after massaging a hard cock between them. The thought of them sliding on Thatcher’s hard shaft drove an arrow through his heart but lightning bolts were striking in his crotch. As his wife’s tongue snaked into his mouth and slithered around inside, he tasted the musk of her high school sweetheart’s cum. Though fighting a sensation of disgust, he couldn’t stop the goosebumps that raised over his entire body as she said, “I’m going to show you, Corey Matlock, that I can be just as naughty as you.” Clutching his hard cock through the fabric of his trousers she fumbled with his zipper.

As she broke the kiss, he could see moisture welling in his wife’s eyes. “Thank you, Corey. Thank you. Thank you, thank you. Thank you for my surprise.”

As Kelly dropped to her knees, she pulled Corey’s engorged member free and began licking his weeping slit. As his wife’s raw sincerity softened all his fears and guilty feelings he gasped as she sucked his connubial length inside her mouth. Purring as she bobbed on his member, she looked up at him with obedient eyes. With a look of pride that said, “This is my husband,” she swept all three of the other men with her eyes as she dutifully groveled before the man who was celebrating her in such a remarkably unselfish way.

With a sense of pride that his wife automatically went down on him first when she came back into the room, he put his hands on either side of her head like he was blessing her. Trying to steady himself while his beloved wife fellated him in the presence of company as if she were a common slut he remembered his own fiftieth and thought I should have let the fucking hooker sit on my cock. Kelly wanted me to do it ... shit!

The most self-assured man at the party was Phillip Bosco. He was already undoing the studs of his tuxedo shirt and his cuffs. Stripping his shirt, he kicked off his low-cut patent leather shoes and dropped his pants. Hooking his socks with his big toes he bared his feet and then peeled down his silk boxers. His cock was more than partially hard, a dangling arc of plumping flesh, and large too ... probably close to eight inches. Dropping to his knees behind Kelly he undid the back of her gown, baring her from her neck to her waist.

As Kelly’s auburn-haired head bobbed on her husband’s cock Phillip kissed the back of her neck, a sensation on her skin that made her wince and grunt against Corey’s cock that filled her mouth. Pecking down her neck and shoulders he stroked his penis to full erection. As he put his arms around her waist, he helped her lift her legs off the black fabric of her gown that was caught in her high heels. Lifting the length of her dress to her waist he bared her smooth, tanned ass. Before pulling her to her knees, her full head-lit breasts dangling in the light, Phillip stripped the dress from Kelly’s shoulders.

With his dick in his right hand, he parted her cheeks, lubricating his mauve-colored crown in the wetness of her glistening gash that had been coated by the abundant oysters of Thatcher’s semen. Positioning his shiny helmet against the threshold between Kelly’s legs he pushed it past the cock-stretched ring of her bright pink vagina. She grunted with pleasure as his cock slid deep inside her clutching cunt, all the way to his scrotum. When he pulled out and slammed back in, she gave a muted shriek.

As Bosco pulled almost all the way out Kelly’s pussy he bucked back and took his thrust so deeply that she yelped when his hard knob hammered her cervix. After an out-of-synch muddle the three finally coordinated into a smooth rhythm. As Phillip slowly fucked Kelly while fondling her dangling breasts, Corey alternated his strokes, holding his wife’s head with both hands, guiding her as her mouth bobbed in various lengths on his shaft.

Swinging his eyes to Warren Thatcher Corey saw that Kelly’s former boyfriend was watching in rapt fascination. As the two men’s eyes met one shrugged and the other wrinkled his brow as neither of them could quite believe that this was happening. Having just fucked his high school sweetheart for the first time—now as a mature woman—the schoolboy grin on Warren’s face had been replaced with astonishment as he watched the once stalwart virgin—his prom queen—naked on her knees, grunting and bucking with her husband’s cock in her mouth and another man’s between her legs. What had been denied him in his youth was now swimming with his sperm as another man’s cock fucked her, his cock sliding through Warren’s lubricating seed that had been shot there less than a half hour ago.

Corey’s eyes caught Mike who was now completely naked, another generously endowed man who looked like he was in a porn film. Whispering something to the completely undressed Thatcher, who nodded his head in agreement each lay down on either side of Kelly with their erections in reach. Each took one of Kelly’s hands and guided it to their phallic prominence she wrapped her fingers around them.

With Corey’s cock in her mouth, Phillip’s in her pussy, and the penis of Warren and Pete, an almost stranger in her hands it was like an out-of-body experience Kelly enjoyed a new kind of erotic heaven, the sex of these four men in her body, mouth, and hands brought an excitement she considered impossible. Amazed that she had experienced her third orgasm she was finally coming to grips with being serviced by four men.