Gang Aft A-gley - Chapter 3 Of 7 free porn video

Chapter 3

Much to my relief, the morning passed fairly quickly. Christine went down to breakfast ahead of me. I sullenly ate alone.

At the seminar, I was able to gloss over the fact that I had no idea what the seminar was going to be about by explaining the switch in drivers. The seminars were about a niche market in real estate. I got to pretend to be a buyer for while, and then I was a seller. The attendees were agents looking for certain criteria of properties, buyers and sellers.

I was assigned a table, and the agents moved from table to table in small groups. I was able to track Christine as she moved from station to station. More than one of her friends noticed the occasional dark looks that I shot at her, especially when her voice rose above others in the room.

One time, someone by her saw my look and whispered something to her. She gave me a look that asked 'do you think I care what he thinks?' Her friend smirked as my eyes dropped from Christine's. The friend didn't notice the quiver of her knees as my eyes lingered below her waist.

As lunchtime rolled around, Christine's group was one of the first to go eat. Some of the people I had been working with saw the look of disgust that I gave her, and invited me to eat with them. It turned out that they were fun and interesting people to hang out with, so I had a good time.

Of course, I was also able to follow Christine with my eyes, and I made sure she saw my eyes on her body.

There was a little over a half hour until the next session started when Christine stiffly approached me.

"I left my shawl in the room," she informed me. "Go get it," she commanded.

With a very fake smile, I pretended to control my anger as I answered, "Sure."

I tried not to huff or show my anger as I got up to leave. Of course I didn't succeed very well, but she let me leave.

I chose to take the stairs up to the room. Just as I was turning into the stairwell, I heard Christine half shout, "The dark one!" I kept going without slowing down, but I held the door open for a bit longer than most people would.  I heard her add, "Damn it, he'll bring the wrong one." I smiled as I continued up the stairs.

When I got to the room, I opened the door and turned the deadbolt to keep the door ajar. I quickly moved over to her pile of clothes. There were two shawls hanging over the back of the desk chair, so I purposefully grabbed the lighter tan one.

I was half way back to the door when Christine came bursting into the room. For the benefit of the people behind her in the hallway, I held up the shawl.

"In what lame world do you think that matches this dress?" she scolded loudly. She made an angry motion with her hands as she turned and closed the door. She reset the deadbolt so the door would close, and then turned it again as the door slammed into the frame.

Her hands were shaking for an entirely different reason as she pulled her dress up over her head. Her bra joined it on the floor as she quickly stalked across the room toward me.

"There was no way I was going to make it all day," she was saying. She caught my hand as she crashed her body into mine. Her lips crashed into mine as she pushed my hand between her legs. She was dripping wet. "Make me cum!" she demanded.

"I should make you beg," I suggested as my fingers started teasing her towards her goal.

"We don't have time," she cried into our kissing.

"I better do it the quickest way I know," I teased.

She groaned her approval. I spun her and pushed her back onto the bed. She was all smiles as I tore my shirt off and threw it aside. Her eyes went round with surprise as I dove face first between her legs. She seemed to be frozen for the first several strokes of my tongue. Her hands settled on my head and she pulled me tight.

"Oh, fuck," she groaned.

She sucked in a deep breath as I pressed two fingers inside, and then the only sounds in the room were her grunts of pleasure and the wet sounds of my fingers and tongue. Her orgasm came impressively hard and fast.

I was very pleased to learn that her flavors matched her scents. Her arousal was sweet and alluring, begging one to breath her in deep, and lick even deeper. Her orgasm was a heady mix, flooding both tangy and sweet as her body contracted around my fingers. I could have stayed and tasted her all afternoon.

I could have, but we had a schedule to keep, and I had a hard cock that needed attention. As my tongue teased through her waning flavors, my clothes slid away. She struggled to keep her eyes open as I crawled up and slid my cock inside her. She took a deep breath in her pleasure.

"Don't wait," she begged. "Fuck me, fill me!"

"What about the class you have to teach?" I teased. "It will be dripping out of you the whole time."

Her eyes pressed shut and her body shook beneath me. Her heels dug in and begged me to start thrusting.

"I'm going to cum just thinking of it," she admitted. "Fuck me!"

"Are you begging?" I teased. "Will you do anything to get me to fuck you now?"

Her eyes popped open, and she gave me a nearly seductive look.

"Maybe," she admitted. "Like what?"

"Kiss me," I said with a smirk.

"I've already..." she started to say, but then her eyes saw the wet flavors on my lips and chin.

"Taste how happy I just made you," I teased.

She stared at my chin for an eternity, at least three second. Her eyes slowly found mine again.

"You like how I taste?" she asked softly.

With a smirk, I used my teeth to scrape some of her wetness from below my bottom lip. I let her see in my eyes how much I enjoyed her flavor.

"Mark wouldn't even kiss me below the waist," she stated. "He said it was disgusting."

"He must be related to his sister," I teased.

Her eyebrows shot up as she realized what I was saying, but then she reached up and pulled me down into a kiss. Her moan of pleasure goaded me into rolling my hips and thrusting into her.

The intensity of her kiss quickly escalated, as did the strength of my thrusts. She grabbed my head and turned it every which way as she kissed and licked and tasted every drop of wetness she could find. When she couldn't find any more, she pulled my face to hers so I could see the fire in her eyes.

"Yes I'm begging," she cried. "Fill me! Fill me now!"

She didn't wait for me to respond as her body exploded into orgasm.

"You know what your body wants," I cried as I slammed into her.

"Yes!" she cried in need.

I gave her two more deep thrusts, then suddenly pulled out.

"No!" she cried in despair.

I jumped forward, grabbed her breasts, pressed them together, and slammed my cock between them. I pulled back and thrust forward once, and then started cumming on her chest.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she cried out as her hands flew up. One grabbed my cock and started milking it. The other splashed into the growing puddle on her chest and started smearing it around. Her growl of pleasure matched mine as her body started shaking in yet another orgasm.

Even after my orgasm ended and I started to catch my breath, she continued to squeeze our mixed juices from my cock to smear on her chest. Her nipples were harder than I had ever seen them, and she shivered every time her hand slid over them. Her eyes slowly opened and she smiled.

"I really am your slut," she said in wonder.

"You still have some begging to do before you are completely mine," I teased.

"I won't beg for those," she said, although she was still smiling. "I'm beginning to think I would do just about anything else, though. Why didn't you fill me? That's what I wanted."

"You would have lost the pantie challenge if I had," I teased. "We need to get cleaned up and get back down there. Oh, and I think there's one more thing you should do."

She was smiling as I crawled off of her and pulled her to her feet.

"Sneak on a pair of panties, so I don't lose?" she teased.

I smirked at her. "No panties, the rules still hold," I answered back. "I need you to slap me."

She looked puzzled. "I can't do that. Not now."

"Exactly," I said, but she still didn't understand. "You came in here yelling at me. If you leave with a smile, I'll win before you make it to the stairs." I let my face turn stern. "If you don't do as I say, I will start acting like your ex, and I will let you know exactly what I think of how you've been acting."

Her anger was instantaneous. "Don't you dare!" she exclaimed. The loud cracking noise of her palm striking my face scared both of us. I tried to turn to hide how much it hurt and she cried out, "Oh, no! What did I do?"

I looked up and smiled at her through the fading pain. "Nice acting!" I said, trying to be nonchalant.

"You did that on purpose," she accused me.

"Of course I did," I replied. "I even told you I was going to." I let my eyes wander down her naked body and rest at her legs. "Now your friends will be even more confused when you react to my stares."

A shiver passed through her body. We both smiled at her reaction.

"I better get cleaned up," she decided, and she turned to go to the bathroom.

I let her go alone, though my eyes followed the sway of her hips as she stepped through the door. She turned the sink on hot and grabbed a wash cloth.

As she waited for the water to get warm, her eyes found the glossy mess on her chest in the mirror. The sweetest smile spread on her face as she brought her fingers up to play. She pushed the gathering juice across her breast and teased her nipple. Her smile slowly faded as she looked at the line of wetness on her finger.

Her brow pinched, and her tongue teased out to moisten her lips. In slow motion, she brought the digit to her mouth. Her tongue extended and she barely tasted the flavor on her finger. She let the flavor roll on her tongue for a bit, and she looked uncertain.

Her brow pinched again, and her tongue scooped the entire line from her finger. I could see her jaw move as she rolled the bigger sample around. As she continued analyzing the flavor, her fingers scooped up more of the remaining wetness on her chest.

She lifted the finger a bit higher to see just how big of a sample she was about to taste. Suddenly, her eyes saw me in the mirror, watching her. With a surprised squeak, she gasped and slammed the bathroom door.

I warred with myself as I debated rushing over and racing in or letting it go completely. I gave her a full minute before I pushed the door open with a smile. She gave me a half smile around the finger that was still stuck in her mouth.

"Most of those flavors are you," I suggested.

We both knew that wasn't true, and she knew that I was giving her a lie she could use if she wanted to.

"I might let you talk me into cumming in my mouth," she said, "but I won't be begging. Not ever."

"We both know what your body will say," I teased.

I took the cloth from her and got it wet. Her eyes tracked my progress as I cleaned the last of the mess from her skin. Her nipples were hard and she was lifting her breasts into my touch as I finished. She looked like she was ready to drag me back over to the bed.

I gave her a quick kiss.

"Go get dressed, no panties," I commanded. She looked like she was going to disagree. "You have a class to teach, and I have a red cheek to go complain about," I added. "And this afternoon, not only will I be looking through your clothes at your naked pussy, but I'm going to be watching to see if your nipples ever lose their hardness."

She stepped close to kiss me, but licked the side of my chin instead. I could taste her flavors in the quick kiss that followed.

"When I win, I'm going to make you lick me until I drown you in my flavors," she predicted.

"If you win," I agreed. "But your body might want you to lose to that woman that keeps telling you I am glaring at you, and then we can share her flavors."

Her eyes flared and she shook her head in denial, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips as she quickly dressed and left. At a more leisurely pace, I cleaned up, got dressed, and wandered back down to the seminar.

I had to struggle to keep from laughing as the people in my group fussed about the red hand-print on my cheek. I even had to curb the actions of two new friends that wanted to find a way to retaliate. I also had to turn down two offers from women who offered me a safe room to sleep in where they would kiss it to make it better.

For the most part, my afternoon went by quickly.

Things were not so easy for Christine. On the surface, her presentation went well. Most people noticed that she would falter every time our eyes met. While they were correct in identifying the tension those looks caused, they didn't recognize her reaction as lust. I lost count of the number of times she had to turn away and take a breath or two while she waited for her nipples to settle down.

I mostly ignored the last two speakers of the day as I concentrated on making Christine squirm. Even from across the room, I could see her struggling to stop herself from pressing a hand between her legs to release some tension. As the last session of the day ended, I expected her to find some reason to send me to the room again.

Any plans she might have had were foiled as we were directed straight into the dinner. There was an unplanned presentation that they wanted everyone to see, so they started the dinner early and made us all go. My new friends made sure I had a welcome table to sit at. I made sure Christine could see me watching her.

As much as Christine was squirming by the end of dinner, I was sure she would drag me out early. Just as the dinner was winding down, her friend that I had teased her about announced that their group was going to some bar she had discovered, and anybody that wanted to could join them. She all but dragged Christine out the door.

I stayed and had a couple of free drinks with my new friends, and then excused myself to go to the room. I turned down a couple of repeated offers, claiming to be tired and ready for some quiet time. I had no doubt that Christine would be joining me in short order. We both knew she had won, but I was certain she was just as eager to collect as I was to pay.

I had to laugh that I had misjudged her when she wasn't back by seven. I was slightly disappointed when she hadn't returned at eight. I was a little irritated when nine o'clock came and went. I was starting to get worried when she was still out at ten.

I heard them getting out of the elevator at quarter past eleven. It sounded like there were eight or ten of them, and they were very loud and very drunk. As the ruckus came down the hallway, I started praying that it was some other group.

I had to sigh loudly when they stopped outside our door to have a conversation in the loud whispers that only drunks can manage. I couldn't understand what they were arguing about. One of them settled the argument by pounding on our door.

"Hey, stud, let us in!" a drunk voice I didn't recognize demanded.

I opened the door, and I was shocked to see there was only three of them. Christine looked like she was having trouble standing, and she wasn't making a sound. The other two were loud as hell as they pushed her into the room.

"Whadaya think stud? Ya gonna pick me or her?" the first one slurred loudly.

"She says we won a silly game, erp, and you're gonna fuck the shit outta one of us," the other rambled.

Even in their drunken state, they could see from the look on my face that they were wrong. I don't know why I was angry, but I was barely able to control my temper as I turned to Christine to see what she had to say.

She turned green and pointed at something on the floor beside me. I rushed to get the waste basket in front of her before her stomach rejected a gallon of liquor. We managed a controlled fall as she dropped to her knees. By the time the heaves had stopped, she and I were alone in the room. Somehow, my anger left as quickly as the other women did.

I lost track of the time, so I have no idea when she was finally settled enough to crawl into bed. We kept the bucket close by. She begged me to hold her, even as I held her, and she cried herself to sleep. She begged me to strip her naked and use her badly, the way she deserved. I reluctantly made us naked, and then I held her and promised her she deserved better. Eventually we fell asleep.

Please pardon another interruption.

Long ago, when my wife and I first started swinging, my wife made a drinking buddy friend. The two of them would go out drinking, often with me along as the designated driver, and they would drunkenly try to pick up men. Often, by the time we got home, they were too drunk to do anything but fall asleep. Although my wife is very straight, she didn't mind that the three of us often slept in the same bed.

The next morning, her friend would wake up all chipper and ready to go while my wife was hung over and could barely move.

One of the reasons I was the designated driver is because I am a lightweight drinker. I can get drunk on two beers. I won't even do shots. The hangover I get from one beer or glass of wine is enough to make me wish I was dead. I'm usually good if I drink half a drink and then give the other half away as I switch to water or cola.

My wife and I agreed that we could hate her friend. You are all free to join me in hating people who can get ripped up drunk, and not feel any discomfort the next morning.

Thankfully, Christine is not one of those people.

I slipped out of the room before she woke, and had water, coffee and aspirins waiting when she finally stirred. She ever so slowly sat up and took the pills and drank most of the water. With a dark look and a pointing finger, she had me get naked and then sit against the headboard of the bed. She sat in my arms with her head against my chest as she slowly drank the coffee.

When the cup was almost empty, she lifted her head to look around the room.

"How much mess do I have to clean up," she asked in a low, quiet tone.

"I took care of it," I answered just as quietly. She let her head fall back against my chest.

"You took care of me," she said.

I just nodded. There wasn't anything to say.

"I'm sorry," she said after a while.

I kissed the top of her head to accept the apology. She relaxed against me, but then reached out to turn the alarm clock to see the time. We both knew that she needed to get moving if she was going to make the final couple of seminars.

"I didn't mean to ruin things," she said. Before I could disagree, she continued.

"Carrie figured it out, but she went to Katy first. Katy said that once Carrie pointed out that it was lust, not anger that was making my nipples hard, she recognized the truth. I was too flustered when they cornered me, and I admitted that I was supposed to aid in their seduction. We were just going to have a drink or two for courage, but... You saw what happened.

"Until now, I've never seen what your wife saw in you. I remember you were angry that we were so drunk, but then you held my hair back while I puked. You had water to rinse my mouth. You took care of everything. Don't tell your wife, but for the next ten minutes, I think I love you."

I had no idea what to say to that. I love my wife, and I'm not sure that a poly-amorous affair would work with her. For ten minutes, I could let Christine love me. Five of those minutes passed before she spoke again.

"I begged you to use me last night," she said. When I didn't reply, she said, "Isn't that what you wanted? You could have done either of those things, or both. I would have let you."

"I don't want to take advantage of you, not like that," I explained. "You will be my slut, but only if we are both enjoying ourselves."

She didn't know what to say about that. She turned her head and kissed my chest, then slowly sat up. She pulled me to my feet and led me into the shower. Nothing was said as she let the hot water and my soapy hands work to wash away her hangover.

As we dressed, she chose to be much more casual than the previous day. She wore a stylish black pants suit with a floral blouse under the jacket. She held up a matching bra and panties for my approval. I let her decide, and with a smile, she put the panties back in her suitcase.

Just before we walked out the door, she turned back and hugged me.

"You can try to play the game again today," she said. "Instead of disdain, I'm going to pretend to be hungover with a headache. Once the headache is gone, I will check with you to see if we are going to work out my payment for losing yesterday."

"We still have a long drive this afternoon," I said, pointing out the obvious.

In spite of her headache, she was able to smile. "Maybe it will be dark enough before you drop me off for us both to enjoy ourselves."

We both smiled at her implication, and she pulled me into a kiss.

She gave a very naughty look as she pushed away. "After all, I am your slut," she declared as she turned and escaped out the door. As I followed, she sedately took the elevator while I took the stairs.

Her friend Carrie is one of those people that doesn't get hung over, and we later agreed to hate her.

Carrie met us in the hallway outside the conference room. She was happy and bubbly and full of energy with no cares in the world. She apologized for leaving me with a sick drunk, but she knew that if she had stayed, she would have needed a bucket of her own.

She also made fun of herself for believing the 'story' that Christine had told them. She had seen how angry I had looked, and she knew the whole thing was made up. She asked me to forgive her for being part of Christine's plot to irritate me more, and I accepted, and that was that.

We didn't see Katy until just before everyone left at noon, and she still was hung over.

The rest of the morning was uneventful as Christine finished up her training and we packed up and left. As we hit the road, Christine begged permission to get some more sleep. She promised that she would do some meaningful begging later after her nap. When I agreed, she put on her headphones, and quickly fell asleep.

She slept for three good hours, and then woke up hungry. We took a break from driving to enjoy a truck stop meal, and then got going again.

We had barely gotten up to speed on the highway when Christine turned to me with a smile.

"So, can I ask you a question?" she asked.

"You just did," I teased. "I suppose you want a truthful answer."

She cocked her head and shrugged.

"My question is, is there something more to your marriage that I should know about?" She barely paused. "The reason I'm asking is I sat back and let your wife lie to me one day. We both knew she was lying, and I knew if I pushed she wasn't going to tell the truth. Did you cheat on her with someone named Mary?"

I started laughing and shaking my head.

"I promise to tell you the truth if you tell me exactly what was said about Mary," I laughed.

"Cheating isn't funny," she scolded, but then her eyes fell. "I guess I don't have room to talk."

I reached over and caressed her leg.

"Tell me what she said, and then I'll tell you my side of the Mary story. I think you'll start to see that things aren't as bad as you fear."

"She always forgives you," she said sadly. "I don't think I can sell her a lie about what I did."

"Tell me about Mary," I suggested as I stroked her leg.

She gave me a half smile. "Shouldn't you be telling me?"

I shrugged.

"Remember the holiday party at our house before we divorced?" she asked. I nodded. "You were late because you had to work late. Mark used that tone of voice that only a brother can use to get under his sister's skin and he teased her that you were probably picking up a secretary at the office party. She laughed it off, but I could tell it upset her.

"Later when we were alone, I cornered her to ask what was bothering her. She gave me some half-baked story about this woman named Mary that was a friend of a friend. She seemed to gloss over how you knew these friends, and she said she knew you hadn't had sex with her, but she was afraid you would.

"I could see that she was upset, and I could tell she was lying, and I knew it would make it worse if I said anything. It just feels like there is a lot more going on, especially with the way she lied and the way you seem comfortable with calling me your slut."

I considered for about ten seconds before I answered.

"Did you ever tell an embellished story so many times that you forgot how it really happened?" I asked.

She shrugged and waited for me to explain.

"I honestly don't remember how we came to agree to an open marriage," I said.

"What?" she exclaimed. I gave her a look and continued.

"I do know that she took advantage of it first, and she found way more opportunities than I did in the beginning. I was lamenting the imbalance to a friend and he suggested we try swinging. We have enjoyed sharing that for the last fifteen years or so."

"You have to lying," she judged. "Why do you look like you're telling the truth?"

"She would rather die than let anyone in her family know, although her mother knew. On a side note, my brothers and my mother know, but my sister would kill me if she found out, so there you go. I am fairly confident that my wife is going to be relieved to have you know."

"I still don't believe you," Christine said, but her eyes demanded more.

"I don't remember where we were at in the Mary saga at the time of that party. But, the saga really starts with her husband Rich. He is one of those kind of guys that women can't resist. He looks like a normal dude, but women are always trying to get his attentions. Somehow, I had the opposite affect on Mary."

I rubbed Christine's leg and gave her a rueful smile.

"Maybe you can explain," I teased. "She took one look at me and wanted nothing to do with me."

"I wasn't that bad, was I?" she asked.

I shrugged and gave her the rueful smile again.

"My wife was still enamored with Rich, and she went alone to a party that I couldn't make it to, and she let him seduce her."

"She did not!" Christine gasped. I shrugged yet again.

"About the time of your party, Mary was creating a stink, telling everyone that my wife was cheating on me and trying to steal her husband. Her brother has always had a way of getting under her skin, and she was probably worried that somehow he had heard something."

"I still think you're lying, even if it makes sense," Christine said. "So what happened with Mary?"

"Two things, but only one of them matters," I answered. "First, most of our swinging friends want to have fun, and not drama. My wife and I chose to step back for a bit to get clear of the drama. Rich got caught going to a party alone, and Mary raised a big stink. She divorced him, and then started trying to get married men from the group to date her. In the end, she was asked to leave and our friends started inviting us to go to parties again.

"The second thing is much more recent. I doubt my wife has mentioned to you how menopause is affecting her. She doesn't feel the need for sex, and she feels discomfort if she tries, so we haven't been doing much with our swinger friends.

"We have become friends with a lot of them outside of swinging, and we always enjoy going to see live music or having dinner dates with them. Afterwards, they go home to parties, and we just go home.

"My wife knows that I wish I could go with them, but she also knows I wouldn't do anything like that if it hurt her. She asked me to promise that I wouldn't sneak away to parties with someone like Mary. She said she wished there were someone that she could trust that would be my date. Tell me, what would you do if I promised to leave my wife and marry you?"

Christine was shocked by my sudden question.

"I'm gonna kick your ass!" she shouted as she tried to move away from me.

"And that's why I think she might trust you," I said with a smile. "If you think about it, you know I wouldn't do that to her. I love my wife, even though she frustrates me sometimes. You're right that I was quite casual about how sex seemed to happen between us, That comes from some of the casual attitude that my wife and I have had about sex for quite a while."

Christine was still sitting away from me in the car and looking at me like I was a monster. I gave her what I hoped was a disarming smile.

"You know I keep teasing you about the things that I plan to make you beg for. No matter how we work that out, our affair will end the moment my wife says she disapproves. No matter how much fun we are having with sex, she comes first. No pun intended."

Christine nodded and relaxed, but she didn't want to talk about it anymore. After driving in silence for a while, she turned on the radio, found a station and then leaned her head against my shoulder. When I offered my hand, she laced her fingers into mine.

"I still don't know if I believe you, even though I can hear you're telling the truth," she said quietly.

I half shrugged and kissed the top of her head, and we drove along in silence for a while.