MDMA-fueled shared girlfriend gangbang (free Kindle, July 17th 2016)

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Samples and more on author's blog
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The full story, in a DOC file, can be found here
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Love it when she looks in the camera

She doesn't know their names

Real amateur action

Slightly ignoring you

love the tanlines

MDMA orgy time

Boyfriend taking the picture

It's always worth getting two bottles of her favorite wine

Banging my wife and her friend (The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!)

The Good Wife

I clicked on the picture to see it full size

No doubt about it - my girlfriend was getting dick at both ends, with what looked like our neighbor bringing up the rear

Let me tie you to the chair, she said, you'll enjoy it.

Amy's coming over, she said, maybe with some friends.

Shut the fuck up and watch, she said, just like in The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!.

Prom night was the best

"What's the big deal? I was just watching."

Happy birthday!

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea

Wife went out for the night and sent this back.

Don't know who took it, but I'm putting it online

Quick plug for Lesbian-owned Wife, with the first few thousand words The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!

A lot of this I'm going to be vague or lie about, but the basic thing is all true.

When I was still a kid my mom died, and when I was in high school my dad, in most respects a monumental fuck-up, married this 25-year old, a woman called Jenny. He was already over 50, and she was gone less than two years later, but in that time she'd made quite an impression.

Two things I can tell you about Jenny might explain this, beyond that she was hot as fuck – long legs, slim figure, great smile and wardrobe like a hooker: the time I found her porn, and the time I caught her screwing the pool guy.

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Jess had long hair and pale skin, a slim body and nice tits, and whenever I found a set of pictures of a girl like that getting fucked I looked for the ones where her face was obscured, so that it looked like her getting nailed by another dude, and sometimes two or three.

In all of these I imagined myself watching my Jess fucking in real life, or that I'd just found her online, her secret, slutty past uncovered, or – even better – her secret, cheating present, off out fucking whenever I was home alone, and when she came back I'd fuck her with a vengeance and make her my whore, all while loving her even more deeply.

This was what I jerked off to almost every night she wasn't with me, high as a kite and rabid with lust, and this is what I thought of when I fucked her.

It had become my shame and obsession.

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My wife bored me, in bed and out. I was bored of her body, bored of her face, bored of the way she just lay there when I fucked her and seemed to put up with it rather than enjoy it.

I wanted adventure, youth, and novelty, and that's why I started seeing escorts whenever I went out of town.

It started kind of mild, a strip club and a lap dance, then a hand job at a massage place, but then I wanted to fuck, and the parlors and spas gave way to sleazier joints, and then I got into ordering women online when I'd be staying in a hotel, and after a while that was just what I did when I had to travel for work, which was a lot.

It was great, it really was, and I nailed and got blown by some of the best-looking women I've ever talked to – flight attendants, waitresses and perfume girls included – sometimes even two at a time, both of them working the pole for tips.

In the year or so I was doing this I must have fucked three dozen women, and finally got my numbers up to where I felt they should be for a man of 50, albeit at considerable expense.

Then one day it all ended when my wife found out, and this is the story of that.

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PROLOGUE

Happy Belated Anniversary John!

There's a surprise planned for you today. Not a party, don't worry, an adventure.

Go to your office and look for the envelope in the ****** cabinet.

Have fun!

ONE

Dear Loser,

Congratulations on finding the ****** cabinet. I usually prefer to ***** from one of the decanters when I'm here, but this time, the last time, my plan is to liberate whatever fine bottle was sitting where you found this letter.

So sit down, pour yourself a *****.

The good stuff.

You'll need it.

First up, I know you, and you know me, but I'm not going to tell you who I am. What I will do, and at great pleasure and length, just like when I did the deed, is tell you that I've been fucking your trophy wife, Yolanda. She's taken my seed and dribbled it out from cunt and ass and mouth, but now we're through and I thought I'd let you know the truth about that great family life you think you've got there.

You see, by any reckoning you've been a friend for a significant amount of time, and I see it as my duty to let you let you know what the situation is, just in case you want to put a stop to things before they get out of hand.

Only joking.

I'm doing this to cause you pain.

TWO

Now I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of laying out my backstory, or specific grievances, blah, blah, blah, which would only leave a trail of clues. Suffice to say, you're a rich, successful man. You own a lot of businesses, you do a lot of traveling. You know a lot of people and you've stepped on a lot of toes. There are plenty of men you've pissed off who might want to cuckold you just for the lulz. The fact that Yolanda is such a knockout, and bored and frustrated to boot. Well, no wonder I'm not the only guy who's been nailing her.

But you're John Bondurant, your family own half of Newton and maybe I'm not so smart, maybe you'll get my name pretty easily.

In which case, come at me bro'.

I may not have your money or power, but I have sets of photos and videos, private messages, texts, laying out the whole thing, from soup to nuts.

Coming after me would not help your new career.

So pour yourself some of that fine scotch and think about whether you want to burn this message before reading it all.

But if you insist: go to the center of the room, get down and look under the middle of that big ass bearskin rug. You'll find the next part of this letter.

THREE

You found it, great.

That's the game we're playing here – hide and seek.

Like I said, I don't want to give too much away, I'm in hiding too, because the fact is you do know me, and pretty well. I'm someone you see at least once a month, and we're on a first name basis, which seems fair, since I've dropped enough loads on your wife's face to get her mistaken for a half-cooked omelet.

Of course, you're probably thinking this will turn out to be a simple case of blackmail, and I did think about that when I started fucking Yolanda, but then I just did it for the keepsakes, the pictures and videos we made, so that I could look back on this whole episode with some clarity. I mean, one day I'm going to think "no, there's no way I fucked Big John's wife and..."

Yeah, we'll get to that later.

So relax, sit down, have another *****, take your cock out and whack off for all I care, you freaky fuck, because what I'm going to tell you here is all true, and the only reason I'm done with your wife is she dumped me in favor of another guy, who, and I quote, "has a schlong like a lumberjack's forearm."

She has a way with words, doesn't she?

Of course, she has an even better way with dick.

FOUR

Thing is, you probably think you can just ask your wife and get a straight answer.

Like: "Guy wrote a letter says he fucked you – is it true?"

But behind her eyes she'd be all like: "Which one?"

Because there have been quite a lot of them since you two got married three years ago last week.

Yeah, I know the date. You were out of town for the anniversary, but Yolanda still wanted to celebrate, so me and her, plus a third party, as yet unnamed – came to your office here and had a good time.

At the start we made out on this rug, and it felt good. Another solid purchase – just like your wife.

OK – next up, go the bookcase and look in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

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My wife's parents were strict about dating while she was in school, and she missed out on a lot that other people in the US take for granted. But after Priya finished her master's she moved to San Francisco to work, and that's where I met her.

She's smart, hard-working and beautiful, but I was the first man she'd ever been with. Her first boyfriend, in fact, and although she loves me I know she's always been hung up about my greater experience, more embarrassed than jealous.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she said, and I had to admit, she was right.

We both see ourselves as rational, intelligent people, and so perhaps it's not surprising that when I asked Priya to marry me she said yes, but on one condition: she wanted to ***** with another man before becoming my wife.

How could I say no?

"We go to Vegas," I said, "so it stays there."

"OK," said Priya, "then we'll get a room, a nice one, and I'll find someone, then bring them back."

"And?"

"Well then, you know –"

"What about me?"

"You could take a walk. See a show. Play the slots. I don't know."

"No. If this happens I need to be there."

"What? Watching?"

"Not only. I want to join in, too."

"Really?"

"Really."

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"I was a virgin when I came to America," Ariana said, "but I like it now. One thing though, I wish – I wish you'd tell John how to go down on a girl. How important it is."

"What?"

She smiled.

"It's OK. Jane talks."

I blushed.

Ariana laughed and put a hand on my shoulder.

It felt good.

"Don't worry, only nice things, but John, he doesn't like to go down on me, doesn't do it enough."

"What's enough?"

She looked down.

"Enough, you know, to bring me off."

"Wow," I said. "That's a shame. Well, I'll tell him, if I can. I mean, I love to go down on a girl."

"Really?"

"Sure, it's fun, especially if she's shaved, doing all that with just my mouth."

Things were quiet for a while, just some music playing, and the sound of us ********.

Then Ariana spoke, and I felt the air get thick and heavy, my face suddenly hot again.

"Well...I had a shower. I'm very clean. I shaved, too. Do you think you could go down on me?"

"But, John, Jane, I mean –"

"It's OK," she said, "it's not really sex, is it?"

"What? Then what's sex?"

"Fucking, right? Cock in pussy, that's sex. The other stuff, that's just playing, like kissing and hugs."

I didn't know what to say.

"I mean, I was virgin when I met John," she said, "but I'd been to bed with a man, just never like that, not at all."

"Then what did you do?"

Ariana looked at me like I was an idiot.

"Handjobs, titfucks, oral, anal, that kind of thing."

My mouth hung open.

"Come on," she said, "you think we Catholics are stupid?"

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