Chapter 8

As it happened, what I called the “Darius and Melissa Show” proved rather scintillating, to put it mildly. If we thought that Melissa was hot and bothered before, she really came into her own, pun intended, with this act, the last dick taking her sweet pucker. It was almost certainly the fact that she already had so much prostate stimulation, plus the extra lube that made the action so much smoother that enhanced the pleasure for her. Eddie’s lovely wife’s moans were loud enough to be heard in muffled form through the ball gag, confirming what I thought.

Of course, Darius himself was already so excited by the prior fucking that Melissa took and the cum dripping out from her backdoor that it was only a matter of time. He really struggled to hold back and why wouldn’t he? Here he was, buried inside the hot mess that was Melissa, his boss’s luscious wife, having just seen other men deposit their spunk back there as well. As an exhibitionist, he also enjoyed being filmed in the act and there was just the overall raunchiness of being part of a movie about gang-bangs set in someone’s private residence on their marriage bed.

When Darius buried himself inside Melissa for one or two more strokes and she clenched her buttocks just right, it was too much. He erupted inside her already creamy cornhole and pulled out to leave a nice, healthy gape for all to see. Eddie zoomed in on that gaping asshole and let the future viewers get a better look at his own wife’s anal creampie. He was obviously proud of that evidence that he married a porn star so sultry that she could make five men shoot that much jizz into her bottom.

“Alright, now ... lezzie action time, I hope. How about it, Mrs. Koening? What do you say, Hank? Shall your wife fuck mine? Want our wives to lez each other out? If so, how?” Eddie turned to us and Britta-Lise looked at me.

“Get your strap-on, babe. Take that sweet little butt of hers, just like she wants it. Melissa, wiggle your tush a little if you want my wife to sodomize you,” I encouraged Melissa, who immediately did just that, teasing us with her sloppy, delectable ass.

“I’d say that’s a yes, but let’s remove the gag and confirm, shall we?” Eddie deliberately teased his wife with a delay, “how about it, dear?”

He removed the ball gag and she cried out, “Please, just have her ram it long and deep! Britta-Lise, honey, just take my slutty little butt!”

“I’d definitely say that she wants it, then. You might even say that she’s ... gagging for it,” Eddie joked as he put the ball gag back in his wife’s mouth.

It wasn’t much longer before Britta-Lise was up to her plastic balls inside Melissa’s derriere, anally probing her harder than an alien. Eddie’s cute little minx of a porn star slut wife took to my amateur porn star wife’s strap-on and thigh harness penetration like a true champ, no surprises there. My wife really seemed to get into it, too, ravaging Melissa’s tight tunnel with abandon after a short time, which only excited both of them more. Mrs. Coleman put her back into it, giving it her all to take more of that dildo near her prostate.

This was certainly not my father’s idea of lesbian porn, but who cared about that? Armin Koenig wasn’t precisely my standard or role model, either, not while doing life without parole for killing Mom and her lover with gunshots to the head. Yeah, I never mentioned that to you, but then, I seldom brought it up at all. Dad rotted in prison where he belonged, all because he caught Mom with another man and murdered them both. I learned the hard way that jealousy can be deadly. Father a double murderer, grandfather a Nazi war criminal, damn, my family closet had some skeletons to spare! I was determined not to follow their examples.

Thinking back on the present and focusing on what my wife did to Eddie’s, suffice it to say that Britta-Lise and Melissa both made their husbands proud with their delightful Sapphic romp. The harder and rougher my wife got with her, the more the inner pain slut in Melissa came out to play and the closer another anal orgasm came. Watching my wife plow Mrs. Coleman, known professionally as “Melissa Moon,” I definitely felt my own loins stir and I was far from alone there.

“So, how’s she gonna be credited, then? Under her stage name or her real name?” I teased Eddie, who laughed at that.

“Oh, she always uses her screen name, but everyone in the industry knows that she’s married and that I’m the lucky bastard who landed her sweet little ass! She’s the one who got me into porn. She’s the one who gave me, not lent, just gave me the venture capital for this little pro/am enterprise of mine, but she’s also my partner in it.

“She benefits, too, the more this grows, and of course, she reaps ... other rewards. The same sort of fringe perks that I get, mind you. I always act in my films as well as direct them and she helps me produce and edit them, too. She’s quite the little filmmaker these days, just like me. Have you thought of a screen name for your wife or yourself? It seems that you’re going pro just as I am now, after all. Full-time porn stud, right? And your wife a full-time starlet,” Eddie inquired.

“Birthday Boy, of course. It suits. It’s a name that will instantly draw attention, be unique, and not give anything away about me. I can have fame without people knowing enough to easily dox me. As for her, I’ll discuss it with her, but I’m inclined to favor Valkyrie or Freckles. Something like that,” I grinned while my wife drove deeper and reached the prostate, of course.

“Okay, showtime!”