by Andi Allyn
Jesus, he couldn’t just want to watch me get fucked by another guy like a normal man, right? No. For him it has to be whole hog. I have to go out there and fall in love and he has to be really afraid that he’s going to lose me. It’s not enough for it to be about sex and about sexual adventure. Fuck no. It has to fuck with my emotions, give me hopes I’d given up on, and turn everything upside down.
Fuck, Auntie Karen, I didn’t even give a shit about having conversations about literature and all that before now. It was something I loved but the companionship surrounding it just didn’t matter to me at all. Now, though. Fuck. It’s like somebody gave me the most incredible gift in the world and then while I was enjoying it and loving everything about my life, the gift got snatched away again like there wasn’t a fucking care in the world about what it meant to me.
I am so angry it almost physically hurts, and I’m even angrier because the moment I saw Craig I realized that I wasn’t making a choice. There’s no way I could give him up. So fuck! Fuck! Fuck! And he doesn’t even know how I feel about it at all. He thinks I came out here with Lisa just to get him off. His harem shows up to please him, and I feel sick about it because I’d rather be part of his fucking harem than leave him.
Fuck.
January 4 [email protected] wrote
You do realize you just wrote, “watch me fuck another guy like a normal man” don’t you?
January 4 [email protected] wrote
Bauble?
January 4 [email protected] wrote
Bauble, talk to me.
January 4 [email protected] wrote
God! I hate when you disappear on me for hours.
January 4 [email protected] wrote
Sorry. Lisa woke up when I was typing and she saw my message. We had a big fight.
January 4 [email protected] wrote
Really? About what?
January 4 [email protected] wrote
About me not taking any responsibility for the situation.
Basically, she pointed out that you warned me and that she warned me and that both of you two must have said a million times that keeping this whole cuckold thing in the world of fantasy made sense but making it real was a dangerous thing.
January 4 [email protected] wrote
That was it?
January 4 [email protected] wrote
No. I bitched and moaned about it, and she stopped me and made me get dressed. Then, she took me to a sex shop here in town. I didn’t understand what she was doing exactly, but she walked in, and the owners knew her from conferences and stuff. This place was nothing like her shop. I mean, when you walk into her store it’s a bunch of sexy and adventurous stuff. This place was just fucking sleazy. So, she asks him if the window’s open, and I have no idea what that means, but the guy nods and she pulls out two hundred dollars and hands it to him.
So, he leads us down this dirty, dark hallway and we step into a little room behind a curtain. He pulls away another curtain, and there’s a window behind it. There’s a lady there on her knees sucking on some guy’s cock, only the guy isn’t even in the room. His cock is poking through a hole in the wall. I still don’t understand what’s going on. The guy cums and she backs away and kind of wearily turns her head. There are other holes on that wall and the other walls, too, and another dick pokes through. So she blows this one. Sure enough, another cock pokes through.
I asked Lisa why the hell we were watching, and she told me to shut up and watch. Another three blowjobs happen, and I realize this woman isn’t enjoying it at all. I try to tell Lisa I want to leave, but she makes me stay. There were nine more blowjobs before the woman was done, cocks of all sizes shapes and colors.
January 4 [email protected] wrote
Why the hell did she bring you to that?
January 4 [email protected] wrote
That’s what I was thinking. This lady finishes up, and she leaves and another woman steps in. This one’s a little older, maybe in her mid-thirties. More cocks. I endure another hour of blowjobs and then the lights go out. Lisa takes me back to the front desk and tells the guy at the desk she wants us to see the other side of the walls. So, he leads us down that same hallway to another door, and there are rooms surrounding the walls of the place the women were. On the walls are words like “stick cock here” and arrows and stuff, but the thing she wanted to show me was the wall that gave the schedule. There was actually a fucking signup sheet. There were also rules. Only married women were allowed in. The whole thing was a place for men to show off their “wife whores.”
Lisa led me away from the shop, and right in front of the rental car she said, “Those men want their wives degraded. Those men want to tear down their women. Those men want their wives to be animals. Your man wants nothing like that.”
I didn’t know what to say, but I just started crying. I couldn’t stop. She had to drive us back to the hotel. She brought me up to the hotel room and just left again to get some alcohol.
January 4 [email protected] wrote
Wow. I still don’t quite understand her taking you there.
January 4 [email protected] wrote
I don’t know. I think she was trying to shock me, to show me what Craig’s “deviance” could be, you know. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. She really thinks Craig and I have it good, and I guess we do. I mean, she’s young. She doesn’t get how this kind of a situation could fuck with me emotionally. I think she thinks I’m kind of spoiled. Who knows? Maybe I am. One thing’s fucking clear though, whatever it is that Craig wants from me, it’s nothing at all like what those women went through.
I’m not so angry anymore. Really, I just want both. I want Craig and I want Andres, and I can’t have both, which means I can’t have Andres. I guess that’s the horrible part of it all. I would never choose Andres, and I’m angry that I need to give him up. Fuck. I don’t know. I just want Lisa to get back with the booze.
January 4 [email protected] wrote
Are you going to talk to Craig about it?
January 4 [email protected] wrote
Bauble? You disappeared again.
January 5 [email protected] wrote
Bauble?
January 5 [email protected] wrote
Can I just say that vodka and cranberry juice can do wonders for your outlook?
Actually, we just had one drink. Then we went shopping and bought new outfits. Today is a spa day, and when Craig gets back from the conference I’m going to spank him within an inch of his life, fuck the hell out of him, and tell him Andres proposed to me.
The way I figure it, he’ll know I made my choice even as I tell him.
January 5 [email protected] wrote
Will Lisa be there?
January 5 [email protected] wrote
Yes. In fact, we’re going to take turns. We planned it all. We actually went back to that horrible sex shop because it was the only place we knew to get toys.
He has no idea what’s in store for him. I’ll update you tomorrow.
January 6 [email protected] wrote
I’m breathless in anticipation.
January 6 [email protected] wrote
He’s still tied up. Lisa’s fucking him right now.
January 6 [email protected] wrote
My God! It’s after dinner time.
January 6 [email protected] wrote
We started at about five o’clock last night. A long spanking. Teasing him about wanting his wife to fuck other people, that kind of stuff. Then, we made him eat us. First, I put my leg over his shoulder while he knelt, and as soon as I came, I moved out of the way and Lisa did the same. That gave me time to recover, and we made him do it all over again, this time with us on the edge of the bed. Then we made him do it again, this time with him on the floor and us sitting on his face.
Then, we bent him over the bed a
nd switched off fucking him. He had to use his mouth on one of us while the other one fucked him like a girl. All told, he got me off six times, and Lisa, too. We never even touched his cock. Then, we tied him to the bed and blindfolded him and Lisa and I went at each other. Secret—we started faking it. In the middle of it, she whispered that she was so fucking sensitive she didn’t think she could take any more. So, I just started saying things like, “Oh Honey, your fingers feel so good. Fuck me, baby. Oh God.” Her fingers weren’t anywhere near me, and she caught on quick. We faked a sex session for about forty-five minutes until suddenly she told me she needed to get fucked.
I pointed at Craig, and she practically jumped on him. I realized the faking had turned me on beyond belief as well, so I sat next to them on the bed and told Craig he couldn’t cum. I fucked myself with a dildo until I came hard, and when Lisa came, I held her tightly.
From then on, we took turns teasing and resting. We actually took hour long catnaps while the other one fucked, spanked, or teased Craig. In short, for the last twenty-six hours or so, we haven’t let up and Craig got no sleep. We were going to let him go in the morning, but he didn’t really have to be at the conference today, so he was pretty much free. Anyway, he is so desperate to cum, he almost cried the last time I pulled myself off him. Hang on.
January 6 [email protected] wrote
Hang on?
January 6 [email protected] wrote
I just took pity on him. While she was moving on top of him (facing away—it’s called reverse cowgirl, she says) I pushed the dildo into his ass and fucked him with it. Then, I told him Andres proposed to me but I decided I wanted to stay married to him instead. It was absolutely silent suddenly. So, I reached forward and squeezed his balls and said, “Aren’t you going to cum?”
Instantly, his balls tightened up, and I kind of pushed Lisa off him and got on top of him. He came and it felt like it lasted forever. Lisa kissed me as he came and when I got off, I moved so that he could clean up, but he was asleep!
Lisa and I got into a bit of a giggling fit, but we’re going to lie down and sleep now, too.
I still wish I could keep Andres, but tomorrow is coming and I’m going to be right here with my husband.
Marly the Masterpiece
by Tanya Tung
All Rights Reserved Copyright 2012 by Mmmmore Productions
Cover Image by Elmer Love
Marly stood contemplating the picture that was bolted to the floor. It was cordoned off to keep unwary patrons from stepping unknowingly on its “artistic greatness.” It was a rather childish depiction of a young man with a giant gaping wound in his chest and centered above that wound, hanging from the ceiling, was a knife formed from the parts of a broken computer. She studied the display and decided that she knew nothing about art.
Marly sighed. Her friend, Romey, had convinced her to come to this gallery opening because all the hip, artsy guys would be there and she just had to do something to forget the terrible break-up with her boyfriend the week earlier. Marly had simply agreed to be the wingman. Wingwoman? Anyway, she was here for Romey in tonight’s little foray into the world of high art. Now, her friend was nowhere in sight and she was bored to tears.
She walked away from the display and moved back to the bar to pick up another drink. She wasn’t a big drinker and she was supposed to be the designated driver, but she couldn’t take much more of this ridiculousness without dulling her senses a little.
As she waited for her drink, she saw a small crowd part like the Red Sea and a man walk from the middle. He had obviously been the main attraction, but now he was leaving them behind and making his way toward the bar. Looking at his tall figure, Marly felt that things had suddenly gotten much more interesting.
In the few minutes he took to get to the bar, she had decided that he was definitely worth the attention. Tall and lanky, he had dark hair that was cut like an old western gunslinger with the accompanying mustache. He was wearing an old-styled shirt without the collar in a deep red, but the thing that really got her was the suspenders with the accompanying shiny gold star of a ghost town sheriff. If he weren’t so attractive and confident in bearing, she would have laughed.
When he got to the bar, she turned around and grabbed her own drink and took a sip, trying to take a look at him from the corner of her eye. He ordered his drink and turned and smiled at her. “I hope you approve.”
Marly turned fully in his direction. “Oh, definitely. There aren’t many guys out there who could make that look work, but you’ve got it handled.”
He mocked bowed at her. “Why, thank you.” He held his hand out abruptly and shook hers. “I’m Sheriff in these circles but, with my friends I’m just Anthony.”
“Am I your friend, just like that?”
“You are if you want to be.” She saw the intensity in his dark blue eyes and felt some of her bravado wane.
She didn’t answer, just took a sip of her drink and stared into those eyes. He got his drink and thanked the bartender. He turned to her again. “I would like to invite you to a private showing after this crowd goes home, if you’d like. I find it’s much easier to appreciate the pieces when you don’t have socialites buzzing in your ear about their strong emotional connections.”
She smiled and nodded. “It sounds good, I just have to find my friend and see if she can manage to find a way home without me.”
“Well, why don’t you drive her home and come back. I’ll wait.” He put his hand briefly on hers on top of the bar.
She felt a thrill race through her and pulled her hand back to straighten a fake stray hair. “I, uh, that sounds great. Do you work here or something?”
“Definitely something.” He saw a hand in the crowd waving madly at him to join a new cluster of well-dressed twenty-something’s. “Well, I better go see what the masses want. Until tonight.” He smiled, took her hand and bent over it for a kiss. She felt the whiskers of his moustache brush her skin and another thrill ran through her.
She walked away from the bar to try and locate her friend and let her know the change in plans. Scanning the exhibits as she passed, she noticed one that made her take a second look. It was a man sculpted in tin, a western holster around his waist and a tin hand jammed into the empty holster. A large ragged hole with peeled back metal edges tinged with red was centered in the figure’s chest. On the ground at the figure’s feet was a single, shiny sheriff’s tin star. The information card on the floor by the star’s feet read simply: Too Late work by The Sheriff.
Marly’s lips twitched into a smile. He wasn’t just some gallery lackey. He was one of the displayed artists in tonight’s show. She was suddenly seeing modern art in a whole new light.
Later, after she had gathered her friend from the arms of a drunken college aesthete, packed her into her car and drove her home, she returned to the gallery to find it empty except for one girl, apparently auditioning for a role in Beatnik La Boheme, and the Sheriff himself. Stepping into the doorway, she gave a small wave as he looked her way and grinned, showing even, white teeth beneath the bushy lawman’s bristles.
He finished his conversation, giving the girl a quick hug and kiss, and then walked over to where Marly stood pretending to entranced by a painting of a dog carcass flattened by tiny tire tracks and surrounded by Hot Wheels cars. She heard him walk up behind her. “Yours ?”
He shook his head, sighing. “Unfortunately, no. I’m afraid I don’t do animal corpses well. I mainly focus on the human aspect.”
She turned and looked at him. For the first time, she saw how young he was, probably no older than thirty. She folded her arms in front of her. “You didn’t tell me you were one of the artists on display.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I figured you might like me better as Anthony.”
She dropped her hands. “What do you mean?”
He took her by the hand and began walking her to the back of the gallery. “I only meant that you were not the typical art-scho
ol cling-on that seems to inhabit every dungeon of a gallery that I’ve ever been in.”
A small smile appeared on her face. “Oh.”
They walked along the darkened halls of the gallery until they finally came to a stairway set into the back wall. “I have a small studio here, upstairs. Would you like to see it?”
“Of course. I may not be an art student but I can appreciate beautiful things.” What was that? She blushed and looked away.
He put his hands on her face and gently brought her mouth to his. His lips pressed down against hers and his mustache pressed against her upper lip, making it feel itchy and pleasantly abused. “I’m glad I’ve found a fellow admirer of beauty.”
He took her hand again and they walked up the stairs, pressed close together in the narrow stairwell.
When they entered the upstairs loft, the light was dim and shadows hid the farthest corners. It was a large space with miscellaneous art paraphernalia strewn about the floor and the walls. The Sheriff, or Anthony she remembered he wanted her to call him, walked ahead of her, but didn’t bother to turn on any lights. He turned and beckoned her inside. “It’s alright, there are no boogey men in here.”
She laughed at her hesitance and followed him, letting him take her hand and pull her toward the farthest wall. She noticed as they got closer that there was a beautiful red divan set against it and cushions and rugs thrown on the floor around it. The light from a window in the adjacent wall fell eerily across the divan. Anthony sat her down on the edge of the divan and offered her a drink, which she readily accepted.
When he returned with their drinks from the bar along the other wall, he sat down next to her and began to talk about what he loved about art. “It fills an empty space with riot and confusion. We pretend to explain it and organize it, but it just remains unexplainable.”
She nodded, taking a long sip of her drink and thinking she had gotten into something way over her head, but when he set his drink down on the floor and took her in his arms all thoughts disappeared.
