Chapter 23

Vera:

But once the subject was broached, we moved right to action. Frieda -- being Frieda -- took great delight in beckoning me forward to her obscenely splayed crotch as she draped her legs over the arms of Oliver's office chair. Oliver, wielding that little whip for emphasis, made it clear that I needed to do my best -- but Jack added a carrot to the stick by telling me that Frieda was obligated to return the favor.

It, well, it really wasn't bad. Frieda's pussy is almost hairless; she just has some blonde down -- nothing coarse at all -- so that wasn't an issue. I loved having my pussy sucked, so I really had no excuse, anyway -- and the taste wasn't bad. Frieda was vocal and she bounced and thrashed, but she didn't grab my head and mash me into her pussy -- something I'd done with Ollie a few times -- for which I was grateful. Having her react like that brought a certain sense of accomplishment, too, that was somewhat akin to what I got from the approval of a guy when I gave a good blowjob or a good fuck, way back when ... Maybe Oliver was right; maybe I could substitute this for guy action, sometimes. What I feared was what Oliver would say or do if it became apparent that I still needed more than one guy...

Frieda's first orgasm was entertaining, really! She undulated in the chair and wailed "OooooOOOOHHHH!!!! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT" and her pussy got really juicy -- I had to hold her little butt in place so I could keep licking, and I knew that working her clitty while she was in the sensitive aftermath was driving her nuts, but I was feeling a little sadistic and enjoying feeling her jump at the touch of my lips and tongue. The men got a chuckle out of it, which warmed me, too.

Then Oliver knelt behind me and began supervising and directing -- and seeing to MY arousal... "Feel free to masturbate -- in fact, I insist," he breathed in my ear. I'd never masturbated in his presence -- well, a few times when he was sound asleep in the dark under the covers -- but never in his sight ... It was ... racy -- embarrassing, but I tingled all over at the idea. Then he started rubbing that vibrator along the crack of my ass and down underneath to my vulva...

I had a vibrator -- an old-school, hard-shell type. This one was jiggly and had bumps and ridges and I was in no position to see it, but I knew it had to be a representation of a big, fat, gnarly cock! There was such a difference in the feel of it as he rubbed it along my ass and my open gash -- my pussy lips popped open the moment my fingers touched my clitty, so the thing slid right along my groove. My attention drifted from what my mouth was doing to what my hands and his were doing until something drew a line down my back and Oliver admonished me, "Pay attention to your work!" -- and I realized that it was probably that whip! I went back at Frieda, but it was so hard to concentrate ... Oliver started pressing and rubbing the bulbous head of that fat rubber cock against my opening and the vibrations seemed to go everywhere -- along my labia to my clitty, which rang like a gong, and across my belly and up to my chest, making my nipples buzz. I started mindlessly sucking Frieda's clitty and she howled and thrashed and held my head and gushed all over my chin and neck, then collapsed, pulling my head forward onto her belly, panting, "No more..."

My vagina dilated, and Oliver wormed the vibrator inside until the bulbous head was seated, then worked it back and forth -- and I felt an orgasm coming. It would be a hard one -- a hammering flash of my raw nerves, not the same kind of thing I got with a cock in me. My nerves were in overdrive, and my pussy reminded me as an undercurrent to the jagged pleasure that I'd been used hard several times already tonight. Oliver removed the vibrator from my vaginal opening and drew it back along my tingling ass, then slid it forward to touch my fingers working at my clitty, imparting its vibration to them.

I saw stars! If I hadn't been kneeling, I'd have fallen. The orgasm was every bit as intense as I'd expected it to be, and I convulsed and hunched and moaned into Frieda's belly while she caressed my face and hair.

Oliver was every bit as sadistic as I had been -- if not more so! The vibrator's mechanical attack was unrelenting; I couldn't escape it as Oliver manipulated it, moving it here and there and presenting new sensations all over the now raw nerves of my sensitive pussy. I never really got to recover; I went from the aftermath of the first orgasm straight into a second ... I began to beg and plead for release from the torment, the agony of pleasure. My stomach and thighs clenched and rippled and I began to feel exhaustion from the sensory overload. Oliver didn't let up; he kept teasing my pussy, causing it to tense and flutter.

I heard a new voice as I babbled and pled for release, and recognized Beth, standing there; I couldn't focus on her, so I had no idea why she was there -- except maybe to add to my humiliation and embarrassment. Another orgasm arrived, unannounced -- then suddenly, something slid into my ass! My ass clutched the intruder, my pussy clamped down and I screamed into a hand that was suddenly there, over my mouth...

And I passed out, overloaded.

When I awakened, I could barely move; it felt as though I had cramps in every muscle. I was lying on the rug; Oliver was there, next to me, his hand idly rubbing my belly and one of my jugs, occasionally pinching a nipple gently. I opened my eyes and groaned and he said, "You're awake. Good." Then he stood and unceremoniously dropped his pants, exposing his cock, which was at full extension and pulsing, bouncing up and down with his pulse. He seated himself in his office chair and picked up the whip, poking me with it. "Get up. Service me."

Never in twenty-five years had he used that tone with me. I was shocked and scared -- and titillated. The whip flicked over me again, not quite a strike. "Now!" he demanded. I rolled up on shaky legs and crawled to him and he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my face to his cock. "Do it right!" I opened my mouth and he dragged my head into his lap, poking his cock deep into my open mouth.

I resurrected my one-time skill at deep throat. I had no choice; he would settle for nothing less! I had to remember how to take a cock deeply like that, and he didn't give me time to do so -- on the very first stroke, his glans poked my tonsils. Oliver made demands -- and accepted no excuses. This wasn't gentle Ollie, the man I'd trained to do nice things to me. This wasn't the sophisticated intellectual I'd married. This was a new person -- and uncompromising individual who put me through my paces with no concern at all over my feelings or pleasure. I felt that whip on my back three times in the next couple of minutes, two gently and one fierce stroke when I let my teeth drag along his shaft. "You KNOW better!" he snapped, and my mouth opened in an 'O' of shock and he shoved his glans in my throat even as I did so!

What did I do? I got serious about it! I gave my very best blowjob! I gave him things I'd never even offered before, and pretended I was incapable of or sickened and repelled by. I swallowed around his cock as he buried it in my throat and I made love to his glans and his shaft with my lips and my tongue and I fondled his balls gently with my fingers and gently stroked his perineum -- and when he erupted in my mouth I swallowed his fluids greedily!

And he spurned me, of course. When I'd sucked him clean of every drop of his semen, he pushed me away. "That's what you're capable of," he grated, "and I've been shortchanged." He got up and reached for his pants, then stood there, looking at them -- and I could almost see his thought process as he looked up as though assessing the collection of women in the house. Then he tossed them at me. "Carry those." He went to the door and turned back to look at me, then pointed at a spot behind him and to his right. "Right there." I got up and hurried over there. When I was in position, he pointed at the whip he'd left by the chair. "Go get that."

I waddled my big ass over there and got the thing and hurried back. Oliver took it in one hand and put his hand on my chest and pushed me against the wall beside the door; the light switch poked my back, but my attention was DEFINITELY elsewhere. He leaned in and the look on his face was one I'd seldom seen at all, never mind directed at me -- he was seriously angry. "You've withheld yourself from me. I've never seen you express your pleasure properly and you've denied me the pleasures of your body -- things you've given to others. I'm angry about that -- make no mistake -- and I'm likely to STAY angry for, oh, the NEXT twenty five years, maybe?" He waved the whip in my face, close enough that the little tip thing created a draft under my nose and my eyes crossed to look at it. "You'd better behave yourself PERFECTLY and deny me NOTHING or I will use this on you until your brain short-circuits and you start getting pleasure from it!"

His eyes bored into mine and he waited for several seconds, then pain exploded along the inside of my left jug as he flicked the whip against it. "Do you plan to acknowledge me?"

"Yes, Master!" I blurted. Thank God I remembered to call him 'Master'!

"Follow me." Oliver headed down the hall to the stair and up the stairs to the bathroom. At the door, he turned back and looked at me. "Did anyone ever use you as a urinal?"

I blinked, rocked. "N-no..."

"So that would be new, right?"

"Y-yes..."

He grinned evilly. "Don't tempt me." I realized that it might have been smarter to say yes ... If Oliver wanted to push the edge of my envelope bad enough, I was in for an experience I probably wouldn't like. As it was, I stood in the door watching him urinate and thinking about it, which may have been the purpose of the exercise. I really hadn't made a habit of watching Oliver urinate; it was a learning experience, of a sort.

Oliver finished and moved on to his bedtime rituals and I couldn't have been happier -- I was EXHAUSTED! I took care of mine once he was in bed. There were sounds -- sex sounds -- coming from Beth's room -- and unlike the night before I only wondered vaguely who Jack had with him besides Beth. I was sated. I got into bed and snuggled up to Oliver and he opened one eye and said "Naked," so I got out of bed and removed my nightgown and got back in and cuddled up again, and he said, "Better." That was it. Usually, I listen to him snore for a bit before falling off, but I think I went straight out.

And I slept like a baby.

Oliver:

I amazed myself. Vera amazed me first, however. First, there was the whole incident at that restaurant/bar with Major Howard and the two unknown males. The Major was my fault -- or Jack's -- or both of us. And having him sex Vera was DEFINITELY my fault; I was distracted by lust for my own daughter and irritated with Vera in general and excuses wouldn't be difficult to come by. When Frieda and Tara announced that Vera 'wasn't done' however, that was a surprise; I'd never known Vera not to be 'done' -- or perhaps as 'done' as she was going to get, anyway -- before that night. Clearly, however, she was agitated -- I'd never seen her even masturbate, and there she was blindly trying to fist herself! I, of course, was unable to help, having just poured a cataclysmic orgasm into my own daughter's mouth. I was confused and rattled and distracted by guilt at the unholy joy I'd gotten from performing an absolutely forbidden act with Beth -- Jack's protestations that the whole incest issue was irrelevant aside, my personal beliefs had yet to be rearranged and THEY said I'd done something forbidden! Having the two strangers scratch Vera's itch seemed to make sense at the time, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered just where that itch had come from! It certainly hadn't been a feature of her sex with me!

Vera's revelations in the van on the way to Tara's were shocking and left me upset, disturbed. At the time I was numb from the shock and couldn't describe how I felt beyond that. My wife of twenty-five years, the mother of my children, the woman who introduced me to sex LIED about her preferences and concealed the breadth and depth of her sexual experience from me! All through our marriage, I'd played by her rules, lived within her sexual limitations -- and in reality, those limitations did not exist, except as a means of controlling me! I couldn't get a grip on the depths of the betrayal, but already when Jack invited me to assist in his inspection of Keisha I got a perverse pleasure out of tweaking Vera's nose that had its basis in resentment.