Paying Rent

She has long been bullied and abused by Her older sister, a cold distant person who hides behind the supposed mask of her bipolar disorder...the manifestations of which are an inability to edit her comments and criticisms, her need to be always right, and the fact that she views anyone not agreeing with her and her behavior as being "disloyal" to her.
We had dinner last night with Gayle and her husband, Gayle of the Playing With Old Friends posts of last July and August. Despite past histories and alienations, She and Gayle has become good friends yet again, trading on a history that goes back to grade school, the knowledge of one another that transcends the need for explanation and backstory.
And so, last night, as She related the tale of her older sister and her mean spirited treatment, Gayle reminded her that she has been treating Her this way since they were children, and had treated Gayle the same way. And then she capsulized what I have been saying for years:
"Forget her. She's been taking up space in your mind for years and not paying rent."
BULLSEYE!!

Playing With Old Friends-Epilogue

It would be nice to say that things reverted back to normal, or back to where they used to be, and it would be nice to say that things didn't really change and stayed the way they were before, but they didn't. We spent the next few days tiptoeing around each another, silent breakfasts followed by catch-as-catch-can dinners where each of us would fix a meal and eat independently of the other, each on of us working hard to be in the same place but to be invisible, sleeping in the same bed but not together or with each other, truly ships that passed in the night. Franny watched tv in bed, I watched many of the same programs in the family room, the sounds echoing through the house. Neither one of us really said anything about that evening to the other, limiting our conversations to the necessary sorting of day-to-day problems and tasks.

Until the night that I thought I felt her drape her leg over mine and reach across the bed, which by now felt as wide as a football field. I rolled over on my side, thrusting an open hand between her legs, letting my hand rest on the smooth parts of her thighs, and she reached down for my hand, seemingly ready to move it up to her crotch. But I had misread the situation, or just imagined it in my longing for her and for the intimacy of her touch, as she put her fingers around my wrist and moved my hand away from her body and back toward mine. She pivoted in bed, reaching over to turn on the reading lamp beside her, and then turning back to face me.

"You liked it, didn't you? You liked seeing another man making love to me, no fucking me, ripping the orgasms from me, didn't you? You liked it, you really liked it." Her eyes widened at me, a mixture of anger, fear, a tiny bit of lust mixed in as she remembered what had happened, her skin flushing slightly, the tiny pulse at the side of her neck beating away like a crazed metronome. She flung the sheet off, sitting up straight, crossing her legs as though sitting at a campfire, moving the sheet off me as well. And I could feel my cock jump at the shock of the cooler air...I was erect, hard, as aroused as I had been that evening.

"I can see how much you liked it, me getting the life fucked out of me while you watched...your cock looks like a fucking totem pole, it's so hard. It's what you wanted, isn't it? Look at how fucking excited you are by just my talking about it." And, embarrassingly enough, I could feel my skin begin to flush as well, the shame of what she was saying sinking in, the thought being said out loud for the first time that I had enjoyed seeing her with another man, seeing her doubleteamed by a voracious couple, not caring where the next touch or caress came from, only wanting to be used more and more and more.

And I watched the expression in her eyes change, the anger and fear draining away as she said the words, all the words, as she let out the feelings that she had kept in these past few days. Sly cunning and a look of calculated scheming replaced what had been there before she spoke, and I could see that although things were somewhat as they were, they weren't ever going to be the same. She reached across the bed, grabbing my hyper-erect cock and absentmindedly stroking it slowly up and down. "Now that I know what you want, what really lights you up, we can go forward from there, there have to be some changes. We're still together, but things have to work a different way."

And she just smiled, the cheshire cat smile, the cat who ate the canary smile, her face a mask of insolence.

Playing With Old Friends-Finale

And so we stood there, all four of us, fixed in a lurid tableau...Franny in suspended animation, her eyes closed and her arms and legs just dangling in the air, alone in her own private world of sensation, the voracious couple plundering her sexuality, their hands and mouths, their limbs and organs all working away to drain the lust from Franny's poor soul, I just standing there dumbstruck, my hand slowly going back and forth on my cock, watching my poor wife being driven to a place I had never taken her, lost in her surrender to sensation, worshipping her surrender with my own self pleasure, using both hands on myself in a vain attempt to convince myself it was someone else jerking me off and tryaing to find pleasure in the act.

I watched as Franny struggled to shake her head sideways, trying frantically to remove herself in the most elemental way from what was going on. She detached from Gayle's mouth, her lips spread apart in a rictus of expression I couldn't place or understand. She gasped once, twice, desperately inhaling, whispering out "Please, no more...no more. I can't, I just can't," and they stopped, the twin vultures of lust, understanding finally that a limit had been reached. Gayle dropped her hands away from Franny's nipples and breasts, sliding her arms under Franny's to help support as the poor shell tried to stand up, stumbling backwards from Tommy's lap, juices and moisture of all sorts running down her thighs.

I came, on the floor, watching her absentmindedly make her way to the back bedroom to collapse, and I wordlessly followed her, finding her laying on the bed. I covered us both with a sheet, holding her close, not knowing if she was awake or not, conscious or not, still with me or not.

Playing With Old Friends-V

Franny and I had long ago settled into married sex, into the you know where to touch me and I know where to touch you kind of sex, not the mindblowing fuck your brains and and don't give a damn kind of sex, and I had felt for some time that we were just going through the motions of it, getting off and getting each other off. But the earth had long since ceased to move for her, and I knew that I was giving her what she needed, but not what she wanted. And so I had kept hidden the notion of her having rampant sex with another man, kept silent the thought of watching her get fucked silly, until she was weak in the knees and couldn't walk straight. And now, somehow, this woman with the suckable nipples knew, and she knew it all. And she was pushing me towards it, towards that precipice, towards the edge from which there could never be a return.

She took my hand and pulled me back down the hallway towards the kitchen, which was now strangely dark and shrouded in shadows. We stopped in the doorway, and I realized that all the shades had been drawn, and the light entering the kitchen was only refracted sunlight from the west facing window, the light coming through the trees as the sun began to set. Tommy had grabbed a low stool from the corner of the kitchen that we normally used as a spare dining room chair when we had lots of company. He'd sat on it in the center of the room, his legs stretched out before him, low enough so that he could position Franny straddling him and still standing. I watched as she reached down between her legs and grabbed his penis at the base, steering it towards her opening, slowly starting to crouch down to put it into herself, her cunt and thighs awash and glistening with wetness.

I saw her slowly and carefully manuever the head to her opening, posing still as she became accustomed to the huge head entering her, his hands reaching forward to her waist on either side. He leaned back just a bit for balance, and began to pull her down on his cock, her eyes opening wider still, her breath escaping from her mouth along with a wordless moan which continued on and on until she reached the base. Her eyes glazed over, their focus long gone, her gaze far in the distance, as she rested, her jaw still dropped and her mouth still open in a silent o, her feet barely touching the floor. I reached my hand down and started to masturbate, knowing that I was longer and harder than I had been for a long time, more aroused by seeing Franny gone far away, her reason deserting her in search of pure pleasure. Slowly she began to rock her hips back and forth, her torso leaning back, her head flung back, her eyes now closed, her mouth still hung open as tongue protruded slightly. Tommy also leaned back ever so slightly, so that her feet could gain greater purchase on the floor. She began to grunt in rhythm to the thrusts her pelvis was making, exhaling every time she pushed forward, the grunts becoming louder as she intensified her thrusting. Tommy looked over at us, I slowly stroking my cock for fear of cumming on the kitchen floor in 30 seconds, Gayle frozen in space watching her childhood friend hammering her husband's dick with her pubic bone.

"Gayle, could you shut this bitch up? She's gonna wake up the whole neighborhood if she keeps this up." And with that, Gayle left my side, leaving me alone to watch as the couple devoured Franny, chasing all rationale from her mind. Gayle crossed behind, allowing her to lean back further from Tommy and against Gayle, her cunt now thrust forward by the extremity of the position. Gayle grabbed her head and turned it just enough to the right to plant her voracious mouth on it, and I could see her plunging her tongue in Franny's mouth as if it were another dick, swirling and twirling around her lips, taking the upper one between her teeth and pulling it slightly, snaking her hands underneath Franny's arms to grab her breasts and tweak her nipples, moving her hands in small circles, her thumbs and forefingers holding the very nipple tips and moving them in opposing circles. I continued to slowly move my hand up and down my cock, so moved by the spectacle before me, the astonishing picture of my gentle wife being eaten alive by her own sexuality and the lust of others.

Playing With Old Friends-Part IV

She slid behind me and gently pushed my back, directing me down the hallway to the master bedroom, leaving Franny kneeling on the floor, struggling with the head of Tom's clublike penis. I made my way into the bedroom, Gayle now placing both her hands on my ass to move me forward, closing the distance between us until I could feel her warm skin pressed against my back, every little curve and groove indented against me. She took tiny little steps so that she could stay as close as possible, walking so close her feet almost slid under mine, forcing me to stride slightly wider than I was used to. When we got to the bedroom she knelt down before me to help me step out of my shorts, but instead of standing back up, she crouched even lower, sliding forward between my now wide spread legs, past the midpoint of my crotch, and she tilted her head back at almost a 90 degree angle, taking my balls in her wet mouth and holding them there, then moving her tongue laterally in the limited space that she was able, licking the under side of my ball sac.

She moved backwards even further, her mouth releasing my balls from their captivity, her tongue raking back and forth in the space between my balls and the edge of my ass, back and forth, over and over, long strokes back and forth, stopping at the very same place each and every time, the pressure feathery at first and then increasing, becoming more and more pronounced, as her head moved slower and slower, compressing the space she had been concentrating on, my cock bobbing up and down in front of me as I became harder than I thought possible.

"That's enough of that", she said, as she scooted forward and stood up behind me, edging closer to the bed. "My turn now", and she flopped down on the bed, her legs dangling forward, still wearing the little girl panties, now wet and even more translucent than before. I wondered who had enjoyed her licking more, her or me? She tugged the panties impatiently to one side, and I could see her moisture glistening before me.

"Stick your fingers inside and fingerfuck me for a minute or two" she commanded, and I was quick to jam two fingers deep inside her, sliding them forward and back. "Another one, and if you've trimmed your nails, slide your pinky into my asshole." The wetness had slid down the crack of her ass in just the few minutes that she was lying there, and my littlest finger slid in effortlessly, her round sphincter clutching at me as I pumped away, her hips beginning to gyrate with my motion, her hand reaching down to find her clit, her index and middle finger moving up and down, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"Harder, dammit, I'm not made of china, ya know. I want to be pounded." And so my hand moved harder back and forth, trying hard to match her rhythm, listening hard for her exhale as she pushed down with her pelvis, hearing her grunt with the effort, knowing that she was jerking off against my hand, faster and faster now, until at last I heard a sustained moan, her asshole contracting several times around my little finger, her cunt awash in every kind of fluid imaginable, her excitement palpable and real. She stopped moving, and I held my hand still, waiting to see what else she wanted. She slowed her breathing until she was able to speak coherently.

"You wanna see what the others are doing, don't you? You're a watcher, and you'd love to watch Tommy fuck the shit out of your little wife, wouldn't you?" she almost sneered, and my face reddened, knowing that she had caught me in a secret that nobody else knew. "Let's go find them."

Playing With Old Friends-Part III

And I followed the look of her eyes, their lowered lids gaze rivetted firmly on the cock in front of her. It was longer than my 8+ inches, perhaps 10 inches, with a large knobby head, and I could see her head moving ever so slightly up and down as it bobbed free of its enclosure. "Do you think you can handle it?" he asked as he smiled at her, knowing that she was lost to the sight of it and was barely hearing him. I watched as she took one or two steps to get herself comfortable in the spacing of the kitchen, and then sank to her knees as if poleaxed with a baseball bat, staring at the cock hovering only inches from her face, her mouth slightly opened as her chest heaved to catch her breath.

I barely saw the hands move beside me, or heard the rustle of the fabric, as Gayle reached behind her head and untied the halter top of the dress she was wearing. "Hey," she breathed into my ear, "see anything you like?" and I turned to see her standing next to me, wearing only a low slung pair of white cotton panties, the crotch already translucent with wetness. She pulled the waistband up hard, forcing the panties into the crack of her crotch like a piece of string, and I could see her lower lips spread to either side of the string, partially trimmed back to outline her cunt, the rest of her hair not shaved but close cropped. She started to slide the string of her panties back and forth along her clit, and it slid easily in the juices accumulated there. Her breasts hung down pendulously, her nipples dark against her skin, the circles very round and dark, almost purple, and they looked like two plums. I bent down to suck on one of them, all reason and restraint long gone, surrendered to this couple who had obviously come to our house to seduce Franny and me.

She folded her head down until her mouth reached my ear, and then bit me, gently at first, and then harder. "I usually like it rough. And I like it in my ass...the first time, that is. But I'm thinking that the floor of this kitchen isn't the most comfortable place in this house to be on my hands and knees, is it? And I'm pretty sure that Franny's knees are starting to be sore as well. " And I looked over at my wife, her two hands wrapped around a stranger's raging cock, her delicate mouth struggling to put the head in between her lips, her mouth opened as far as it could be. I watched as just the head of Tom's cock disappeared into her mouth, the angle and his height making it difficult for her, although she showed no signs of backing off. Her hands, at first resting on his thighs, almost as if to control the rape of her mouth, now circled between his legs, grabbing his two buttcheeks, trying to will herself to swallow more of his cock.

"Why don't you show us where the bedroom is, so that we can get more comfortable and not put on any more of a show for the neighbors?"

Playing With Old Friends-Part II

And so the two of them stood there, silhouetted against the six o'clock sun, as Gayle continued to twist my nipple like a radio dial, and as I tried desperately to think up an explanation of what was going on that might be at all plausible. And then I watched a series of fleeting emotions wash through my wife's eyes---first a long period of disbelief, then some shock, a brief period of amazement, then a narrowing of her eyes that I took for anger, and then two final expressions that I couldn't place at first. Her mouth tightened ever so slightly, and her eyes narrowed even more, and I realized it was the grimace of revenge. And then she turned slightly sidewise to Tom, who smirked just a bit.

"I can see what's going on here, can't you, Tom? We've been left behind." And as my wife stared pointedly at the hand reaching across my chest under my shirt to grasp the other side of my chest, Gayle started her ministrations again, eliciting a sharp gasp from me. Her gaze drifted down to the tent that started to appear at my crotch, as I became hard, then harder, responding to the pain and pleasure all at once.
It was then that I recognized the last emotion on her face, the one that stayed there as she took a step or two across the kitchen floor and reached for my fly, pulling it down quickly and freeing what was now a rampant cock, loosing it for all to see. It was the throw all cares and cautions to the wind look, the damn the devil look, the I'll do anything look, the look that said please do me, please please do me, do something for me, it was lust with a capitol L.
She turned to face Tom, putting a hand in the middle of his chest, sticking her tongue out just enough to lick her lips back and forth, which she parted and then ran her tongue over the lower lip yet again, and then smiled archly at him. "Can we catch up, can we ever catch up?" she said, looking him straight in the eye.

Playing With Old Friends-Part I

She was an old friend of my wife, her best friend in high school, and she was in town visiting her parents when we met her, accompanied by her husband. She was much prettier than I remembered, having met her years previous, when she was all bundled up in a winter coat and hat. She had long dark hair, almost black, down below her shoulders, flashing eyes and a wicked come hither smile. Her husband was attractive in a general sort of way, but seemed years younger than she was.

And so when we met them at the local farmers market one Saturday morning, we were quick to invite them over than evening for drinks. It was the beginning of summertime, and the evening light filtering through the trees always made early evening the prettiest time of day. It was a casual invitation, no dressing up, just drinks and catching up on old times for the women, and so we put on soft clothes, clean shorts, and sat down at 5PM with a beer and a smile.

They arrived right on time, and we all sat out on the deck, Gayle wearing an interesting halter top print dress, her cleavage more than obvious, Tom like me wore a simple Lacoste and tan shorts, the uniform of the day. Over the first beers, they told us about their lives in Florida, she still running the cosmetics department of a major department store, he the beverage manager of a prominent club, emphasizing how happy they were down there, how they had a great time all the time, and how they loooved to party.

We love partying was the phrase used, and she looked me straight in the eye when she said it, just in case I had any doubts as to what she meant. My wife is a lovely person, kind, caring, trusting, and extremely naive, and so the repeated phrase and the interchange went right over her head. At about this time the first set of beers ran out, and I went into the kitchen to get more.

As I stood at the kitchen counter rummaging around for the opener, Gayle came up behind me silently, snaked her hand under my shirt and across my chest, quickly grabbing my nipple and squeezing hard. She leaned into me, pressing herself against me, her uncontained breasts pushing hard into my back. "Do I have your attention now?" she asked, barely whispering into my ear, her breath rushing along my earlobe. "What the hell are you doing?" I responded, as quietly as I could. "You know exactly what I'm doing," she replied. "We're not exactly novices at this, you know," she said, "and I've had this feeling about you guys ever since we saw you this morning." I hardly knew what to say, and said nothing, and so she pulled hard on my nipple yet again, as I stood there, obviously not moving away. "Tom's about to bring your lovely wife into the kitchen to help us out...what do you think she'll see?" And with that, I heard the screen door open and saw the two of them standing there, outlined in the open doorway.