I suffered a cataclysmic event at exactly 5:21 P.M. on Wednesday, April 17, 1993. Cataclysmic events are indelibly stamped on the human brain to be recalled consciously or erupt from the subconscious at the strangest times.

I was under my old Chevy changing the oil when I heard the click-clack of Elaine's high heels on the cement garage floor.

"Jeff," she barked.

From my view at floor level, I saw her black high heel pumps and stockings. I stuck my head from under the car to see her, with her legs spread and her hands on her hips, dressed in clothes I'd never seen. Her short and tight skirt wrapped under her bottom. She wore a black garter belt that held up her stockings, and black thong panties. Her blouse showcased her substantially endowed breasts. How strange! Elaine always dressed modestly.

"Hi, honey," I said.

"Jeff, I'm having an affair with Art. I'm thinking of leaving you for him."

Her face was hard and cold, and her voice equally foreboding. She took two steps back and snapped her legs shut. Her hands were clenched into fists.

"I'm going to Denver to be with him. I'll be gone about ten days. I'll tell you my decision when I get back."

She turned on her heel. I remember the way her ass twitched and the sound of her heels as she walked away. I checked my watch. It was 5:21.

I remember the garage perfectly. Where each thing was. How it looked. How it smelled. Each speck of dirt. Every shading of color. There was a spider in its web in the far corner above the door. I wondered if she had devoured her mate. I finished changing the oil, cleaned up my mess, and went inside to bathe.

I couldn't remember not knowing Elaine. We'd dated since the seventh grade and married when she was seventeen and legal. We'd been married twenty-two years. She was the only woman in my life. She was my life. Like a demonic video designed for my torture, that life played back in my mind. I'd see a happy time, like our honeymoon or the trip to the Cayman Islands. Then those few explosive moments in the garage would play again.

My emotional roller-coaster ranged from rage to extreme depression and back again, with numerous stops at self-pity. When I told Jeremy, our twenty-one-year-old college student son, about his mother's adultery and potential abandonment, he was almost as distraught as I was.

I stumbled through the next week, even painting the house to help me fall into bed at night exhausted as well as alone. By Wednesday of the following week, my emotions no longer roller-coastered. They ping- ponged from anger to self pity, but anger was winning the game.

I was expecting Elaine to be home when I got there Friday after work. Instead, I found two messages on the answering machine. One was from Jeremy, who said he was going to a concert with Speedy and he might not get home at all that night. I had no idea who Speedy was or where they were. The other message was from Elaine. Her voice on the answering machine seemed cold.

"Jeff, I've reached a decision about us. I'll be home late Sunday to discuss it with you. I'll see you then."

I'm not a drinker. If I were, I'd have drunk myself to sleep each night, particularly that Friday. Instead, I put on my pajama bottoms and retired to my bed with a bowl of ice cream to let the mindless drivel of television flush away my thoughts. Leno was over and I had started to doze off when I heard the back door open with a crash. Someone groaned, and then something heavy landed with a thud. I jumped off my bed and ran to the kitchen.

Jeremy was on his back on the floor. A small, thin, girl was kneeling beside him. When she looked up at me, she smiled and big dimples appeared on each side of her sweet, innocent, thirteen-year-old looking face.

"Hi. I'm Monica," she said. "You know. Speedy."

"Oh, hi, Speedy. How are you?"

"I'm good, but Jeremy's not so hot. He's got the brown flu."

"Looks like a bad case," I replied.

"Jack Daniels won tonight's fight, that's for sure."

Jeremy groaned and tried to sit up. He mumbled something.

"You're on your own kitchen floor. Go to sleep," Speedy said to him.

He fell back with a thunk. His mouth gaped open, he gasped, and began snoring. Speedy shook her head in disgust.

"When do boys grow up, Mr. King?" she asked.

"I wouldn't be too hard on Jeremy. He's had some traumatic news," I said.

"He told me about it, but I'm disappointed anyway. I was looking forward to tonight," she said.

"He told you?"

A wave of embarrassment made me blush. "It's bad enough to be a cuckold without every one knowing," I thought. That was silly of me. Everyone would know soon enough if Elaine filed for divorce.

"He's real shook up about it and needed someone to talk to, Mr. King. He told Mom and me. We've spent a few nights talking to him about it."

"Your Mother knows, too?"

"She won't tell anyone and neither will I. You're not the first man whose wife played around, you know."

"Somehow that doesn't make it any easier, Speedy," I replied dejectedly.

"You need to get over it and go on with your life," she said in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. "Have you screwed anyone else since it happened?"

I was shocked by her frank question and the directness in her expression.

"Not since or before," I said. "I've never screwed anyone else."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. Elaine's the only woman I've, well, been intimate with."

"To each his own," she answered. Her eyes were studying me.

"Thanks for bringing Jeremy home, Speedy."

"You're welcome. His car's at Bobo's house so it'll be all right."

I extended a hand to help her stand. She was at least a foot shorter than my six one. When she smiled, her cherub cheeks made her brown eyes narrow on each side of a button nose. She was inches from me and her expression made me tingle. "She's coming on to me," I thought, but I knew that couldn't be right. I had to be misreading her.

"I'll see you to your car," I said.

"Uh, Mr. King, if you don't mind, I'd like to spend the night here."

"Here? Why?"

She stared directly at me and hesitated, which made me feel guilty I'd asked. "My Mom has a guy spending the night. She suggested I not come home until tomorrow."

She wasn't embarrassed by her revelation. Rather, she was searching for my response although I tried to hide it. I was envious of the guy. He was getting laid and I wasn't.

"Oh. You can sleep in Jeremy's room. It looks like he's on the floor for the night."

"Mr. King, do you know why they call me Speedy?" she asked. Her eyes twinkled and dimples sparkled as she smiled. I had the eerie feeling I was walking into a trap.

"No," I replied.

"I'm fast."

"You like to run?" I asked stupidly.

"No, Mr. King. Think about it. What do guys mean when they say a girl's fast?"

"Oh, no. She can't mean what I think she means," I thought. Her innocent child's face didn't look so innocent at that moment. I shook my head.

"I'm fast as in 'fast woman.' Quick to say yes. Fast to strip. Speedy to spread my legs. I like to fuck. I wanted to fuck Jeremy tonight, but he's too drunk." The fly to my pajamas moved and she wrapped her fingers around my flaccid cock. She squeezed and tugged. "I'm horny and I don't want to sleep alone. How about you?" she asked.

"I can't. I'm married," I said automatically.

"Your wife's married, too, but she's spreading 'em wide for old Art. She's probably humping his eyes out right now."

"I've never cheated."

"It's time to start, Mr. King. It's time to have some fun."

My cock started to stir. That was no surprise. She was tugging and squeezing on it like she was milking a cow.

"Now, be honest. Wouldn't you like to ride my bones?"

My mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

"Why don't you cover Jeremy while I brush my teeth," she said.

"No," I said. Instantly, I regretted it.

She squeezed my cock hard before releasing it. Her eyes were intent, but her lips curled in that delightful smile.

"I'm going to fuck you, Mr. King. Come on. It won't hurt. You might even like it."

She walked toward my bedroom with her tight, little-girl, ass swaying invitingly. I put an old quilt over my drunken son and turned out the kitchen lights. Speedy was in the bathroom in the master suite when I sat on the bed. In a moment, she came out wearing a smile and nothing else. She saw my expression, grinned lewdly, and turned around slowly so I could enjoy all of her.

She looked like a typical thirteen year old, or what I imagined a thirteen year old to be since I'd never seen one. Her breasts were high, small, and firm, with small nipples. Her stomach was flat and smooth, her hips narrow and boyish, her legs long and coltish. And her pubis was bare except for a tattoo, a simple yellow rose.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"How old are you?"

"I'll be twenty in three months. Want to see my driver's license?"

"You look so young."

"It's the hairless pussy that does the trick. I had electrolysis because the guys like it smooth. Anyway, the damn thing was hairy as a bear and I had to shave all the time so I could wear a bikini. Nice, isn't it?"

She put my hand where her pubic hair used to be.

"I like it," I said. "Did the tattoo hurt?"

"Not really, but I had a few drinks before he did it. The hard part was deciding what tattoo I wanted. I like what I got."

"Me, too," I replied.

She crawled over me. Goose bumps erupted where her body rubbed against mine. She flopped down by me on the bed. I didn't move.

"Take your pajamas off and lay back, Mr. King. I want to see what I'm going to get."

I froze with embarrassment. No woman but Elaine had seen me naked. Speedy gently tugged off my pajama bottoms and pushed me on my back. She knelt between my splayed legs.

"Oh my, he's soft. What could I do to get him hard?" she said with a mock innocence.

She had a small, crooked smile and hot, devilish eyes as she lowered her head to my crotch. Her hair tickled my leg as she bobbed for my cock and sucked it into her mouth. When I felt a twitch in my cock, I realized I hadn't had an erection since Elaine made her announcement in the garage, but Speedy's vigorous sucking made it rise like a balloon. In seconds, I was so hard it hurt.

"Nice, Mr. King. You've got a big cock. Not only is he a little longer than most, but he's a lot thicker. Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't."

"It's a woman pleaser for sure. Hasn't your wife told you that?"

"No. I guess I wasn't pleasing her if she cheated on me."

"Don't blame yourself. Those things happen in life. I think she was being selfish keeping a cock like this to herself. She should've shared this. Have you ever thought about fucking some of her friends?"

"No," I replied after a short hesitation.

"She's got a least one friend who'd love to fuck your eyes out."

"Who?"

"Mrs. Preston. You know. Sandy's mom."

Sandy Preston was Jeremy's age. We'd known her parents, Dan and Carol, for years. Carol was a short woman with a cute face. Speedy was gently caressing my cock and waiting for me as I thought about Carol.

"How do you know?"

"She's a friend of my mom. They talk a lot. You can probably think of some others you'd like to do, huh, Mr. King?"

"A few," I mumbled. I blushed with embarrassment.

"Well, think about them later. Right now think about me."

She nipped the head of my cock with her teeth to make sure I heard her, smiled, closed her eyes, and sucked my cock head between her lips. She tantalized him, then stopped and smiled at me. A silver string of saliva dangled from her wet lips. Her tongue flicked it away.

"Do you think cock size is inherited?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're big and so's Jeremy. When I fucked Ron and his father, they were both average. So were the Bensons. I was wondering."

"You've had sex with other fathers of your friends?"

"Well, in that case, I fucked Mr. Benson first. I like older guys. So, what do you think, about cock size being inherited, I mean?"

"I've never thought about it."

"I probably think about cocks more than you do." Her giggle was accompanied by the wrinkling of her nose. "I probably think about cocks more than anyone." She licked away a drop of precum. "I'll tell you one thing. Your cock's a lot bigger than Mr. Preston's. When Mrs. Preston sees this, she'll whimper and drop to her knees. That's for sure. Do you want to be on top or bottom?"

"Bottom."

"Hang on, big boy. You're going for a ride."

That was foreplay. Speedy moved over my cock, rubbed the head against her slit to lubricate it, and jammed her hips down.

I seemed frozen by some emotion I didn't understand as Speedy bounced up and down with me in her. I envied the bliss on her face. I relished the sounds she made until she stopped with her back arched and groaned as her pussy spasmed on my cock. Her eyes were dilated with passion as she looked down at me before slowly collapsing against my chest.

I didn't orgasm. "What's wrong?" I thought. "There's a wild, delicious girl riding my cock and I'm a zombie."

Speedy slowly pushed herself up so she was sitting on me again. She looked bemused and had a hard gleam in her eyes. I felt her finger nails slowly encircle my nipples before she dug her nails in with force.

"Ouch," I exclaimed.

"Wake up, Mr. King. There's a hot woman wanting some hard loving and you're lying there like a dud." She slapped me.

"Don't do that," I said.

She leaned forward, bracing herself with her elbows by my ears. "Fucking's more fun if both people do it. I want to be taken, that's for sure. You know. Throw me on my back, pin my hands down, and fuck me until I beg you to stop."

She kissed me hard, with her tongue down my throat. She bit my lip, kissed me again, and rolled off me to kneel beside me. She slapped me.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked. She slapped me again. The slaps weren't hard, but they made my skin tingle. "Don't do that," I said sharply.

"Why not? It couldn't hurt you because you can't feel pain. You don't have any emotions," she said before slapping me again.

"Stop it or I'll..."

"You'll what? Tell me. Will you lay there like a corpse, because that's what you've been doing? Will you cry, or whine? Will you go somewhere and pout, or throw me out of the house?"

She leaned forward until her face was inches from mine.

"Or will you hold me down and fuck me until I want to die? What? What will you do?" She moved away and slapped me. "Get mad, Mr. King. Get mad at me and make me take that big cock of yours."

"Get on your back," I said.

She slapped me. "Make me," she said defiantly.

I reached for her, but I froze in mid air. Sweat burst out. I was paralyzed by inaction again. Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed to slits. She slapped the hell out of me.

"Make me," she barked.

I grabbed her wrists and slammed her on her back. Her face was contorted and she grunted as she fought me, but it must have been half hearted. I easily pinned her hands over her head, trapped her legs beneath my forearms, and my cock lodged in her opening. I froze for an instant.

"Don't stop, Mr. King."

Like a madman, I entered her with a rush and fucked her with hard, driving strokes that released energy and emotions I didn't know I had.

"That's it, baby. Fuck me hard."

I was fucking her, but I was fucking Elaine, too.

"You're so good. Fucking me so good. God, I love it. I'm going to cum. I'm going to. Ahhhh."

I was dissipating the pent up emotion I'd buried this week.

"Keep fucking me, please. Don't stop. Oh, baby, please don't stop."

She squirmed and sweated with orgasm after orgasm.

"I want to feel your cum in me. Let me have it, baby. Fill me up. Please. Please, baby. Give me your cum." "Oh, shit!" I screamed as I came with gut wrenching intensity, and my cum burned me as it flew through my cock. Her pussy spasmed on my cock, milking me dry, and she giggled in my ear. I collapsed on her and released her hands.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and whispered in my ear, "Wow. That's the kind of fucking a girl dreams about. You're a real woman pleaser, Mr. King, and that's for sure."

In seconds, I was asleep with Speedy curled up against me. When I awoke about mid-morning Saturday, Speedy was gone. When I wandered into the kitchen for coffee, I found a note.

"Hi, Dad. We're having dinner at the Roberts' house tonight at six. Their number's 555-1234. Call for directions. Love, Jeremy."

I didn't know anyone named Roberts, but I called. Speedy answered the phone.

"Hi, Mr. King," she said happily. "How 'ya doin'?"

"Couldn't be better, thanks to you."

"When you let go, you let go," she said appreciatively in a low, sensuous voice.

"You didn't put up much of a fight."

"I fought as hard as I could," she replied. "You were a tiger."

"You were the pussy cat that made the tiger roar," I bantered.

Giggling, she said, "This pussy will roll over and spread them for you anytime, stud. That's for sure."

She gave me directions to her house, and I could hardly wait for evening to arrive. I whipped through the day, doing the yard and garage work with a light and happy heart. And I knew why.

How long had it been since I fucked for the sheer pleasure of fucking? How long since the joy of a woman relishing her bliss flowed over me and her musical sounds bombarded my ears? How long had it been since the woman I fucked giggled and gasped from me, or told me she loved it? Too long. Too goddamned long.

My cock had acted dead from the time Elaine walked out until that delicious Speedy resuscitated it. As I worked, my mind wandered to women I'd like to fuck starting with Speedy and continuing through Carol Preston, Barbara Turner, several other wives I knew, four women at the office, and half a dozen of Jeremy's old girl friends. Elaine was in there, but I'll have to admit when I thought of Elaine my cock softened a little. Funny, isn't it?

I spent part of the day naked. I stopped several times to admire my cock in the mirror. I thought about masturbating but, instead, I made myself a promise. I'd never masturbate again. When I wanted sex, I'd find a woman and I'd please her as much as she pleased me.

I arrived at the Roberts' house about six with flowers in hand and a hard cock in my pants. The house, a lovely Tudor, wasn't what I expected. Neither was Becky, Speedy's mother. She wasn't Donna Reed. More like Fran Drescher in "The Nanny" but with bigger boobs. Becky didn't cook like Donna Reed either. Dinner was a Stauffer frozen lasagna with a tossed green salad and a bakery pie for dessert.

I was surprised when Jeremy and Speedy left after dinner to go dancing. Becky and I ignored the dishes and adjourned to the living room with glasses of wine.

"Tell me about your marriage," Becky said.

"Why do you want to hear that?" I asked.

"I'm a divorce attorney, Jeff. I know a lot about broken marriages," she replied.

Donna Reed disappeared to be replaced by Perry Mason who inquired, gently but firmly, about Elaine and me. A few hours and several glasses of wine later, Becky took my hand.

"Enough talk. I want to go to bed," she said.

"It's been a lovely evening. Thanks for inviting me," I replied.

She laughed. "I meant go to bed with you. I hear you're a tiger."

"You know about last night?"

"Of course, and I know her nickname's Speedy. Did you enjoy her?"

I couldn't stop the grin from growing on my face. She grinned back at me.

"I enjoyed Jeremy, too," she said.

She laughed heartily when my mouth dropped open in surprise.

Mother and daughter had striking similarities. They had the same round, dimpled, innocent face. Becky didn't look thirteen, but she looked substantially younger than her age of thirty-eight. They had the same quick smile and wanton twinkle in their eyes. There were two major differences, besides age, in their bodies. Becky didn't have a tattoo although her pussy was hairless, and her breasts were significantly larger.

"Implants. How do you like them," she'd said when I stared at them.

"Nice," I replied.

"Come play with them, tiger, then fuck me hard."

There was another similarity between Becky and Speedy. They both loved to fuck. Becky fucked me until we both were exhausted. We fell asleep in a steamy pile of satiated flesh.

Apparently, Jeremy spent the night in Speedy's room because the four of us had breakfast the next morning. I went home to a sterile and empty house. There was a message on the machine from Elaine saying she'd be home about eight and that she wanted to talk tonight.

I called Becky. "I want a divorce. Will you represent me?" I asked.

"Are you sure divorce is what you want?" she said.

"Yes, I am." There was a long silence.

"I'm not so sure," she said. "But I'll represent you."

"Thanks."

"I like to play hardball, Jeff," she said.

"That's the only way to do it," I replied.

"The question is do we take the moral high ground, act pious, and sue for adultery and abandonment? Or do we take the low road, down and dirty?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She explained it. It only took a second to decide the low road was for me.

I spent the day cleaning the house. It sparkled when I was through. Then I went to work on the master bedroom. I removed all family pictures and anything "homey." Becky arrived to help and brought my new wall decorations - framed posters of artist renditions of stylized, sexual women. She replaced Elaine's magazines and Kleenex on the bedside table with three tubes of KY Jelly, a gross of Trojans in a bright red box, and a stack of Penthouse, Playboy, and similar magazines, courtesy of Jeremy.

Becky and I made the bed with the new sheets she brought. Rather than the print ones Elaine enjoyed, these had pictures on them. Pictures of naked women, women and men fucking, women on women, and women in bondage. I didn't ask her where she had bought them.

I moved the big television and VCR from the family room into the bedroom. Becky stacked the porn films she brought beside them, and slipped one in the VCR.

"Get something to eat. Speedy and her friend will be over about seven. Are you ready for this?" Becky asked.

"You're damn right, I'm ready," I replied emphatically.

"All right," she said, with a laugh. "Here are the divorce papers. Unless I hear from you before nine tomorrow morning, I'll file them with the court."

"Good. That'll get the ball rolling," I replied.

She laughed, gave me a peck on the cheek, and left me there. I went out for fast food so I wouldn't mess up my spotless house. I tried to relax, but I was on pins and needles when the door bell rang a few minutes after seven.

"Hi, Mr. King. Oops, I guess I better call you Jeff. Jeff, this is Heather Ann," Speedy said, motioning to the girl with her.

"Hi, Heather Ann," I said as I drank her in.

Heather Ann looked twenty or so. She was a stacked blonde right out of one of Jeremy's magazines and she had wild, twinkling eyes like she'd fuck anything that had a cock.

"Hi, Jeff. Speedy told me you're dynamite in bed. I can't wait to find out for myself," Heather Ann said as she pressed herself against me and kissed me hotly.

"All right, you two. Mom told me tonight is for Elaine's benefit, so we need to control our urges. She told me exactly what she wanted done," Speedy said with a grin. She headed for the bedroom. I set the burglar alarm, joined them in the bedroom, and locked the door behind me. Speedy stood in the middle of the floor surveying the scene like a general studying a battlefield.

"First of all, that's the wrong video," she said. "That's two guys and a girl." She rummaged through the stack. "You want this one. It's a guy and multiple girls. They do him and each other." She stuck it in the VCR, turned it on, and some guy had a girl on his face, another on his crotch, and a third sucking his toes.

"And this place looks like a stage set," Speedy continued. "We want it to look like a whole lot of fucking's going on. Let's start this way."

She yanked the bed covers back, dumped them on the floor, and walked all over them, twisting to muss them. She stripped off her clothes and threw them randomly, like she'd undressed in haste. Heather Ann did the same. Damn, she was stacked, with breasts like cantaloupes.

"Jeff, quit staring at Heather Ann's tits and get undressed," Speedy said.

"I'll help you," Heather Ann said in a throaty, needy tone. She placed my hands on her breasts and started undressing me. I didn't move and she wasn't in a hurry. I was in a zone. A zone of Heather Ann's sexuality. When she finished undressing me, my cock was at attention and throbbing like a boil.

"Oh. Nice cock, Jeff," Heather Ann said as she stroked it lovingly. "I'll bet this big purple head will feel wonderful when it swabs out my pussy."

"That's for sure," Speedy said. Her ear-to-ear grin sparkled.

Suddenly, I was acutely aware I was naked in my bedroom, the bedroom I shared with my wife, but, instead of Elaine, I was there with two naked young women. A wave of embarrassment smashed into me. I slumped on the bed and surveyed the room. It looked like a wildest orgy had occurred. My cock wilted. Speedy sat by me and patted me on the shoulder.

"That all right, Jeff. A lot of guys get embarrassed and that happens. Your cock will be fine in no time," she said.

"I can fix it," Heather Ann said. She pushed my legs apart, knelt between them, and reached for my cock.

"Don't, Heather Ann," Speedy ordered. Heather Ann sat back and gave her friend a dirty look. Speedy's tiny hand on my chin turned my head toward her. "You're a stud, Jeff. That's for sure. But you don't know it. You need to know it. You need to realize it." She kissed me lightly. "But you're more than that. You're a good man and they're a lot harder to find than studs."

"Thanks. I needed that," I said.

She wrinkled her nose in that delightful, face-altering grin. "Enough mushy stuff. Do you eat pussy?"

"No."

"Why not?" she asked as if she couldn't believe her ears.

"Elaine doesn't like it."

"Either Elaine lied or you don't know how to do it. Do you want to practice on Heather Ann or me?"

I only thought for a second or so before Speedy gave me her marvelous, lewd grin. She turned to Heather Ann and said, "On your back, bitch."

Heather Ann took a running step, jumped, and landed on her back in the middle of the bed. She grinned as she kicked her legs up and out.

"Go ahead, Jeff. I'll coach," Speedy said.

I crawled between Heather Ann's legs and buried my face in her wet and bloated pussy. Speedy was half on my back with her hot little nipples burning holes into me and her hand playing with my cock as she whispered in my ear.

I got the hang of it quickly judging from Heather Ann's babbling as she humped my face. There was no doubt when she orgasmed. She screamed and almost yanked my hair out holding my face to her pussy.

"She enjoyed it, that's for sure," Speedy said. "My turn." She flopped on her back beside her friend.

As I crawled between Speedy's legs, Heather Ann lowered her pussy to Speedy's mouth. Speedy had at least one orgasm and Heather Ann had several when the burglar alarm sounded.

Speedy pushed Heather Ann off her face and said, "Elaine's here. Positions."

"It's about time I get fucked," Heather Ann said as she lay down.

I crawled between her legs and stuck my cock in her. No wilting this time. My cock was a bar of steel. Elaine was going to see me fucking someone else in our marital bed. She'd see me with two someones, if she waited around long enough.

Elaine rapped on the bedroom door. The handle jiggled. "Jeff?" she called. "Are you in there?" We didn't respond. "Jeff, did I hear someone groan?" The groan came from Heather Ann. The VCR sound was muted.

Speedy, naked and with her face and belly shiny with love juice, hopped up and went to the door.

"Oh, God, Jeff. You're fucking me so good," Heather Ann screamed.

"Open the goddamned door, Jeff," Elaine screamed.

"Oh, God! I'm cumming!" As Heather Ann screamed her orgasm, Speedy opened the door.

I'd positioned Heather Ann so I was facing the door. I wanted to see Elaine's face when she first saw the scene. I wouldn't have missed her face for anything.

What Elaine saw was Heather Ann twisting and turning as she orgasmed with gusto. Her feet were firmly planted on the mattress. Her pubis was in the air with me on top and my cock in her. Her arms were pinned over her head. Her face was contorted and in ecstasy. Elaine saw me looking up at her. I wore a shit-eating grin and was covered with pussy juice. She saw Speedy, naked and grinning. She saw the mess and the new pictures. She saw it all. As a bonus, she got a strong whiff of the great smell of sex.