Future of Porn

*Carmen - Library*

When I lived up north, when I was 30, I used to go to the library a few times a week. I was just starting out with pen and ink illustration, with a lot of story ideas but not the drawing talent to flesh them out. The library had a good selection of books on technique, as well as many graphic novels for inspiration.

The same staff member usually worked that area, putting books back on shelves. She was about college age, cute face, with long black hair. For a long time, I didn’t know her name. I also didn’t know what she really looked like from the neck down. She always dressed in baggy workout gear, sweatshirts, and so on. Nothing ratty or stinky, she was always clean, but just… shapeless.

In college, I remembered certain girls wearing more and more loose clothes as the year progressed and they put on weight. Based on the library girl’s choice of clothes, I assumed her body was nothing noteworthy; literally just another pretty face.

She was friendly, though usually too busy to say much beyond Hello or Pardon Me or Can I Help You Find Anything. Even so, it was evident that she was good-hearted and genuinely liked being around people. So running into her was a little pleasure, making the day a tiny bit more enjoyable.

One day, as she knelt to arrange books on the bottom shelf, I noticed something else: her sweat pants tended to ride down a little in the back, like they were getting loose. Maybe she was losing weight; it was hard to tell. I found myself intrigued by the inch or so of skin the lowriding sweats exposed.

Over time, they drooped down enough to show that she was wearing, of all things, a thong. There was the telltale “whale tail” effect as it peeked out from under the waistline of her sweats. I was pleasantly surprised; she hadn’t seemed like the type. Her personality hadn’t changed; after giving me a cordial greeting, and satisfying herself that I needed no help, she would turn her attention to her work.

As the days passed, she showed a rainbow of different thongs. She gave no sign of concern that they were showing, and I had no inclination to let her know. As for that few inches of skin I’d see exposed: she didn’t seem chubby at all. For the first time, I started wondering what she would look like in a swimsuit. Baggy clothes can conceal a good figure as well as a bad one.

One day there was no whale tail, even though her sweats rode down as low as ever. The expanse of bare skin leading downward from the small of her back looked huge. So she was either wearing extreme lowrider briefs — or nothing at all. For someone whose body I paid no attention to not long ago, this ambiguity obsessed me. That night, I jerked off to her for the first time.

I came back the very next day, a Tuesday. Was it too soon? Would it look like I was stalking? Not long ago, I paid no attention to how often I came in; it didn’t matter. I didn’t want towait. I was looking forward to no whale tail, and imagining her bare bottom under those loose sweats.

We exchanged hellos and she went to work, starting with the low shelf. She was wearing a dark green thong. Back to normal. I pretended to scan a photo collection while I watched her work. Maybe this was it, as far as anything would ever go. Last night I had constructed a fantasy where the library had closed for the night, everyone had gone, except for she and I; and it continued with my stripping down her pants, under which she wore no thong, and unzipping her sweatshirt, under which she wore no bra. In mid-day, under bright fluorescent lighting, the girl going about her usual tasks, my fantasy seemed silly, and even shameful.

Still, she was compelling to watch. Her long black hair, corralled in a ponytail; her pretty face, graceful brows and dark eyes, her expression intent as she worked; and that thong, the reminder that there could be a wild side to this girl I would never know.

She stepped up on a stool and lifted a stack of books toward the top shelf. She must have brushed against a protruding edge or bolt; it snagged her waistband as she stretched up. Very quickly her sweats were pulled down over the curve of her bottom. Tension gone, the waistband relaxed, and the sweats collapsed at her feet. She froze, realizing what had happened, and I stared at her bared legs.

Her legs were very nice. Voluptuous. I couldn’t believe what I had been missing. And the thong made no effort at all to cover a nicely curved ass. She gasped, but with a stack of books to handle, she couldn’t reach down and fix anything. There was no one else in the aisle, but that could change at any minute. I would be in a situation very tough to explain. Either I had to leave, now, or help her out, now.

I chose the second option and pulled her pants back up to her waist.

As soon as she got down, she glared at me. “What do you think you were doing?”

“I was worried someone would see you,” I said. “Just trying to help.” Famous last words, sometimes, those four.

She wasn’t satisfied with this, and continued glaring, saying nothing. Even though I really hadn’t done anything wrong, I could see that this was the end of the road for me. If she reported me, I would probably be banned from the library. Or worse. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’d better leave.” I put my book down and walked away.

“Wait,” she said. I turned around. She motioned me back. “I know it wasn’t your fault,” she said, in a hushed voice. “And you did the right thing. It was just a really embarrassing situation and my first reaction was to shoo you away.”

“I can understand that,” I said. “Luckily, I don’t think anyone else saw you.”

“I’m lucky it didn’t happen yesterday.” Now what did she mean by that? There was just a hint of a smirk. She must have noticed I was staring at her. Not good.

I decided to play dumb. “Why yesterday?”

She moved closer, now speaking in a whisper. “Because I didn’t have anything on underneath. As you well know. Don’t even try to deny it.”

This sort of trouble I didn’t need at all. Hell, what if she was only 17? My days of getting involved with girls that age was long gone. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable; I was just minding my own business. I’ll leave now. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to get you in trouble,” she said. “I’m not. You don’t have to go.”

“Thanks.” I was still weighing whether or not to make a tactful escape.

“But I can tell by what you read that you appreciate the feminine body. Like these books.” She pulled a couple of comic collections from the shelf to illustrate her point.

Wally Wood’s “Sally Forth”, about a blonde army girl who frequently ended up naked while saving her troops. I loved that one. Just the sheer exuberance of a beautiful body, a gung-ho spirit and some great situations where she loses her clothes. When I got better at it, my stories and illustrations would have that sort of cheery naughtiness.

There were also Milo Manara’s sun-drenched fantasies with many naked women; and other books with notional plots but admittedly softcore erotic styles. Those were the sorts of women I wanted to draw.

I didn’t say anything. It still looked like she disapproved, however mildly. There should be nothing wrong with an adult reading those books; but interests like that were something most of us found good reasons to keep to ourselves.

“We have some more in a storage room,” she said. “More European and Asian artists. Really too steamy to have out here in the stacks. You should take a look.”

As bizarre as that offer sounded, I needed no convincing. She had me marked as a fan (and wannabe practitioner) of erotic art. I felt I had nothing to hide now, and it didn’t seem like she had anything bad planned for me. I also didn’t want to miss whatever treasures were locked away in that room.

She led me by the hand into a side hallway, and into a room she had to unlock with a key. I liked holding her hand. I wondered if any other patron noticed this little scene.

“I’m Ken,” I said as we walked in. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Carmen,” she said, shaking my hand. She turned on the lights. Books filled the room; stacked boxes subdividing it with new walls, loose stacks of them overflowing counters and tables, all marked with different-colored tags. “Sorry it’s such a mess,” Carmen said. “It’s over here in the back corner.”

She showed me a hardcover collection by Serpieri, the Italian artist who did “Druuna.” His work was hard to find unless you special ordered. Druuna was a raven-haired, large-breasted, big-bootied woman in a scifi-horror arena, often having to tiptoe through creepy places partially or totally naked. She endured lots of sex as well, at the hands of lovers, enemies, and grotesque monsters.

“I love the Druuna stories,” she said, opening to one in the middle. “In our basement at home, I sometimes act these out with my brother and his friends.”

Oh really. This was taking a quite interesting turn. Again I wondered just how old Carmen was. I peeked at the door, made sure it was still closed.

“That’s pretty racy stuff,” I said, involuntarily looking her over. I could not hide my curiosity. “When you act these out, do you wear costumes or just street clothes?”

She laughed. “I wear what she’s wearing, of course.” The implications of that were so erotic that at first I didn’t even follow through on the meaning. “It’s pretty easy. Take a look at this panel.”

She showed a picture of Druuna hiding in a dark corner, trying to see if she had been followed. She was frightened and vulnerable, for good reason: she wore only a white dress shirt, completely unbuttoned, revealing part of one D-cup breast and all of the other. Below the waist, she wore nothing at all, her meaty thighs and pubic thatch painstakingly detailed.

“For this scene,” Carmen said, “I just use a man’s shirt and leave it open. But a lot of the time, like over here, I’m not wearing anything.”

Now it seemed like an elaborate prank. This was too over the top. “You’re making this up,” I scoffed, looking her in the eye. “You mean to tell me you get naked in front of your brother and friends.”

“I am not making this up!” she said, staring straight back. “It’s fun. It’s really hot. You’re the only one I’ve told about it. I thought you would understand.” She turned to another page, where Druuna was naked, on her back on a table, with a standing man screwing her. “So here I would be, and his friend is the guy, and he’s having sex with me.”

“No way,” I said. I was fighting two impulses: one, leave now, because being alone in this room with this young woman, talking about this, was just not right; and two, put my arm around her and see if she protested.

“I know it sounds really weird?” she said, with the upward intonation common to younger people. “But there are some ground rules. Some things my brother’s friend can do but he can’t because he’s my brother.”

“But he still sees you naked,” I said. As fantastical as her story was, I had become convinced she wasn’t lying. She was focused and intense, like someone obsessed with a favorite hobby. Dressing up (and undressing) as Druuna seemed for Carmen to be exactly that.

“A little more than that,” she said. “He’s touched my breasts when I’m naked, and even sucked them. Kind of strange, how my own brother can make me come that way. And he’s also touched me down below lots of times, and I come that way too. But full intercourse is way off limits. So is kissing.”

As she said this, I wondered if she noticed in my face the flush I felt while picturing her doing this. Just freeze-frame vignettes of Carmen laying back on a secondhand couch, legs spread, eyes closed, her brother with a finger in her pussy and his lips around a nipple, her toes curling as she’s about to climax.

“It’s a little strange,” she said. “I mean, you definitely don’t tell all your friends about it. Or your parents. But it’s mostly my brother’s friend instead of my brother. He even has a steady girlfriend and he hasn’t told her about me.”

I was still silent. Carmen was one weird chick. To think what I had not known this about her just 20 minutes ago. But she was fascinating. I knew I would stay here and keep listening to her until she kicked me out.

She regarded me clinically, hands on hips. “You still don’t believe me.”

“Actually, it’s strange enough to be true,” I said, and regretted it. It seemed weaselly, like I was trying to cover both sides of the argument.

“Here,” she said, skimming through the pages, stopping at one she liked. “You can be this guy, and I’ll be Druuna.” Druuna was dressed in a red thong, sidled up against a wall, trying to hide and listen for pursuers. “I don’t have the right thong, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Right now?” I could hardly believe this.

“Of course.” Carmen took off her sweat pants, revealing those lovely legs again. Her skimpy green thong was slightly sheer, showing off her trimmed bush. But I forgot about that for awhile when she pulled off her sweatshirt.

It was criminal what that baggy sweatshirt had been hiding from the world. She wasn’t wearing a bra; perhaps she never had been. Her breasts were amazing, C to D cups, large without being ridiculous like Dolly Parton or something. Standing there in nothing but her green thong, she made a great live-action Druuna. This would be the winning costume in a Halloween contest (well, OK, just for the skin it showed.)

“You’re beautiful,” I said. “Just like the real thing.”

“I am the real thing,” she laughed. “Druuna’s just a cartoon.”

I was tongue-tied for a second, still staring at her breasts.

“Even though, I don’t have her hair, and I don’t quite have her boobs either,” she said. “But it seems to be close enough for the guys.”

She had a point, though I disagreed that she lacked anything substantial compared to Serpieri’s heroine. Sure, her hair was straighter than Druuna’s impossibly wavy mane. Her breasts weren’t quite as big or buoyant, and her hips weren’t as wide. But she was right: she was the real thing, better than any cartoon.

“Nothing wrong with you at all,” I insisted.

“You’re so sweet,” she said. “Now, back in character. You come over and find me.” She walked into the back corner of the room and posed, looking vigilant and frightened.

I hesitantly walked closer. Looking at her in costume was fine, actually it was great, but what would my involvement be?

“No, Ken, you’re my lover,” Carmen/Druuna said. “You thought I was dead. There’s a lot of passion here. Now get over here and kiss me.”

“I’m sorry, I gotta ask. How old are you?”

“Twenty. Don’t worry.”

“That’s a relief. Anyway, I just turned 30.”

“At this point, I could be 13 and too many guys wouldn’t even care.”

Here goes nothing, I thought. I quickly strode up, put my arms around her and gave her a quick kiss. “Don’t worry,” she said, and clung to me, locking her lips on mine. She had a lot more experience with this sort of playacting and was much better about getting into character. If she was in Druuna’s head now, in the girl’s body, I still felt a little awkward, not knowing what exactly my part was. For a moment.

Having her nearly naked body squeezed against mine changed my mind. Forget the play. She might be making out with Druuna’s lover. I was making out with Carmen, and enjoying every second.

“You’re hungry for my body,” she said. “Take it.” I fondled her breasts hesitantly at first, still wondering if metaphorical midnight would strike, she would push me away, and I’d have to find another library. But she was absolutely into this.

“The next panel,” she said, “you take off my thong. Go ahead.”

I peeled it all the way down. Her pussy glistened.

I tasted each breast, nibbling, caressing the nipple with my tongue, as one hand caressed her curvaceous ass and another explored the moist slit between her legs. My feeling of awe, of almost disbelief at the situation, was fading away. She had her hand between my legs, cradling my dick straining against the inside of my jeans.

“Ready for the next panel?” she said. I didn’t know what was coming up, but I had a pretty good guess.

She unbuttoned my jeans and pulled everything down to my knees; then leaned back against the wall, legs slightly spread, arms up. She didn’t close her eyes, or lick her lips, or have this slack open-mouthed expression that was supposed to signify passion. She looked directly at me, with a huge smile. Come and get me.

I didn’t need a comic book to show me what to do next. I shuffled forward, pants around my ankles, crouched down a bit to get the angle right, and held her shoulders as I plunged in.

She was wet, but still really tight, so we had to go slowly the first few strokes. But after that it was deliciously smooth, in and out. She nibbled on my lips and licked my chin, and I freed a hand to caress her left breast, because I just adored the pair she had. Seeing her topless for the first time was almost more enticing than when I stripped her thong, leaving her naked.

“We should be quiet,” she whispered. “The room’s not soundproof.”

“I’ll cover your mouth with mine,” I said.

I was nearly ready to come, and it seemed like she was also close, when she suddenly stopped moving, and put a hand to my chest to stop me. We froze literally mid-thrust, with my dick halfway inside.

“What’s going on?” I whispered.

She put a finger to her lips. And then I heard it: someone had unlocked the door and was opening it.

Luckily we were in the back of the room, behind a stack of boxes, and probably couldn’t be seen from the doorway. She’d be in more trouble than I would if we were caught.

“Carmen?” a male voice asked. “You in here?”

They were looking for her! “Shit,” she whispered, almost silent, making me lip-read. “Don’t. Move.”

“Lights are on,” a female voice said. So there were at least two people.

“Are these her clothes?” the man said.

That was one mistake we made: Carmen had tossed her sweats, top and pants, onto a table.

“Looks like it,” the woman said. “Was she changing in here?”

“Who knows.”

My legs were getting cramped from my half-crouch position; I couldn’t stay motionless forever. I straightened up a bit, which forced my dick the rest of the way in. Her eyes went really wide, as if aghast at how presumptuous I was being. Like she was minding her own business, and then this guy ripped off all her clothes, and now look what he was doing.

“Should we take them to lost and found?” the woman said. “Maybe she just forgot them.”

“Where would she be, then? We’ve looked everywhere.”

Carmen’s vaginal muscles contracted really tightly when I pushed in, and it just felt awesome. So much that it was really the wrong thing to do, but I slowly moved out and in again. She shook her head, frantic.

I knew it wasn’t really fair to her at all, taking advantage like this. It sounded like they were going to take her clothes; even if they didn’t discover her here, how would she sneak out wearing only a thong? And if she did get caught here, completely naked, having sex…

Another person, judging from the voices, poked her head in the room. “What’s going on?”

“Looking for Carmen, her mother’s on the phone,” said the first woman.

I thrust out and in again, noiselessly. Carmen’s eyes were a plea to stop.

“Is she on break?”

“No.”

I continued thrusting slowly. Carmen closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, breathing heavily but trying to conceal the sound. All we could do is hope they wouldn’t make a search of the room and would leave soon. But I didn’t want to stop. My dick was so hard it felt like it was going to snap off.

The three of them were discussing Carmen’s clothes when I resumed caressing her breasts and finger-painting smaller and smaller circles around her nipples. She started shuddering, and kept her teeth clenched, as if trying not to scream. One final thrust, and a tweak of both engorged nipples, and she came. That was more than enough for me and I shot too.

Gina and Dick caught the eyes of people they knew or had just met and let them into their private world of arousal, a world we all knew in varying degrees. Those of us watching were pulled in, and the performers and audience became one. We were witness to their pleasure, but we were also participants in a way. Whispers induced Gina to smile at a specific man while Dick touched and squeezed and prodded so her target man could see everything. The personalized intentional exposure drew each man further into their performance; and when her eyes glazed but remained on those of an obviously aroused man as she confessed her pleasure, the lust was palpably intense from him as well.

“Ooohhh god … mmmm … ooohh yes … I’m almost there … uh-huh … finger fuck me … aahhh … finger my cunt … oooohhh faster … I love this … ooohh I’m coming … ooohhh god yes … uh-huh … ooohhh god yes … aaahhh yessss … yesssss.”

Dick held her body as she convulsed through her first orgasm of the night, the one she’d been so close to so many times in the last four hours. It was so extreme that I almost went with her, and I’m sure every voyeuristic eye was jealous of the intensity of the pleasure wracking her body. Her “oooohhhh’s” and “yessss’s” continued to pour loudly from her mouth for at least a minute, and even in the most intense portion of her orgasm she continued to gaze into the eyes of the nearest man. Exhibiting her raw sexuality to horny men clearly excited her. Dick gently caressed her and he continued to whisper while she came.

After the twitching and rhythmic convulsions finally subsided, she turned to passionately kiss and hug his neck. When her exuberance waned, he whispered and stepped back. She went to work on his shirt buttons with vigor, then stripped it off. There was no deceleration as she dropped to her knees to take off his shoes, socks, pants and finally underwear. I heard gasps of pleasure from at least two of the watching women when Dick’s cock finally bounced free, and I’ll have to admit it is impressive. Most men would trade for his cock in a second. It is long (over 8″), fat (7″ circumference), gets rock-hard quickly and easily, stays hard, lasts a long time, cums powerfully with heavy loads, and can repeat three or four times a night. I looked at the eyes of several women near me and they were entranced. Its slight upward curve made about a forty-five degree angle from his flat abs and it was slightly bouncing to match his pulse. A drop of pre-cum glistened on the tip.

There were now two fully aroused naked people in the room - my two favorite people in the world - and I couldn’t imagine how anybody watching would not also be fully aroused. Perhaps the only difference between Dick, Gina and the rest of us was just the clothing. I know I couldn’t have been any closer to an orgasm than I was. I caught Dick’s eye and he grinned, knowing how much I was enjoying watching my best friend with my bride. I grinned back, knowing how much he was enjoying performing with my new wife. Both possessed a strong exhibitionistic streak, and this was exhibitionism stripped to its core.

Gina, already on her knees, stroked his cock with her left hand, the one with her wedding rings, as she repeatedly licked along and around his thick shaft from the tight scrotum to the purple head. His pre-cum continued to glisten until we all watched Gina use her tongue to lick it off. She worshipped his cock with her mouth, and we could all see the indentation in her cheeks as she sucked. She descended further with each bob, and it wasn’t until her nose was planted in his pubic hair that she looked for me. His cock was down her throat, well past her gag mechanism, so she couldn’t turn her head when her eyes began searching for mine. Her lips were near the helmet before she finally located my eyes with hers. I stood within four or five feet of them, and she relocated my eyes at the top end of each oscillatory cycle. She pulled with her hands on his ass to force his long cock down her throat until it vanished on each inward stroke, then nibbled and sucked with force on each outward stroke. The imposing length she swallowed each time was stunning, and Dick’s thrusting pelvis and audible gasps quickly indicated impending orgasm.

My negative headshake was unmistakable when she questioned with her eyes. She understood that I wanted to watch Dick fuck her, so she slowly withdrew from his cock and stood. As she rose our eyes remained locked. She looked down and I didn’t miss the symbolism when she used the ridge of her wedding band to softly rub the ridge on the head of his pulsating cock. There were at least fifteen seconds when her rings and his cock were the only things touching, and both Dick and Gina were focused on that contact. I wondered how many other people grasped the meaning. Don must have because he took a photo.

Dick finally removed her hand and they began to dance again. This time, there was a huge difference. His erection, always before flattened against his abdomen for Gina to grind on, was between her legs. It bent upward when he stood, so when it slipped between her legs it exerted a spring force trying to lift her. When she stood straight up in her high heels and he stood straight up barefoot, as they were now, his cock made contact all the way from the crack of her ass to her pubic bone. The purple head stuck out a couple of inches past her ass, but between the new drop of reflective pre-cum at the tip and the pubic hair flattened against her fleshy mons at the base, his throbbing cock contacted her asshole, her spread vaginal lips, and her clitoris.

She varied the contact now, and Dick was the passive recipient of her caresses. She closed her legs to squeeze his cock, she slid back and forth along it, and she varied the angle, the pressure, the duration, and the speed, just as Dick varied them with her. The major difference was that Dick had been using his hands to caress Gina’s cunt, so his pleasure was secondary to hers, whereas Gina was using her cunt to caress Dick’s cock. The caressing cunt was getting as much pleasure as the cock being caressed.

Almost suddenly Dick pulled back and turned Gina so she faced away from him. He needed to push his cock down to start it between her legs before he thrust forward. I thought he was going to fuck her right then, but his cock never entered her fuck channel. It emerged from between her legs, almost as if she had grown her own cock. She spread her legs, and the butterfly lips of her cunt surrounded his cock as he gently rocked back and forth. The pronounced ridge around the helmet stroked her clit with each rhythmic stab and his cock glistened with the combination of his pre-cum and her slippery pussy juice. I looked into her eyes and saw the bliss as she watched me.

She reached down with her left hand and wrapped it around his cock. His motion stopped so he could fully enjoy her hand, and from the way they were positioned it appeared as if she was stroking her own cock, masturbating herself. I heard Dick’s first involuntary grunt and looked at his face. It was scrunched up and his eyes were closed concentrating on the pleasure. I was worried he was going to come before he fucked my wife, but I should have known better. She stopped all motion of her hand but continued to hold his cock. His abdomen was pressed tightly against her ass and he was locked into position, unable to move. She must have stopped everything for at least thirty seconds, until he calmed down, before she moved her hand. Her eyes remained glued to mine as she clasped just the helmet from the end. I looked down to see the brilliant reflections off her engagement diamond while she slid her cunt along his motionless cock. The fingers of her right hand framed her clit as she ground and humped, and because she could pull up on his cock from the front with her left hand, she was able to sink down to increase the pressure.

Dick wasn’t whispering so Gina’s admissions of pleasure were all from her own Id. Her moans reflected her escalating arousal and intensified mine. I fought with every ounce of self-control in my being to keep from coming, and when I noticed Dick’s eyes on me it didn’t help. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning way and I nodded my approval for him to continue.

He reached around to push her hand off his cock, then turned my wife to face him again. Their eyes were locked when we all heard his question.

“What do you want Gina?”

“Ooohhh god Dick … please fuck me … please fuck my cunt again.”

He pulled her to him and lifted one of her legs before he whispered. She positioned his cock at the entrance to her cunt while she kissed him. He plunged to bury his entire long cock on the first mighty thrust.

Her lips stopped kissing. “Ooohhh god … ooohh I love your cock.” There was a tone of relief in her words as well as undeniable pleasure. I watched him stroke slowly, pulling out until just the head was inside before his cock reentered with a slow glide.

“Fuck me Dick … uh-huh … fuck my married cunt.” Her eyes had a defocused gaze but didn’t shut and didn’t stray from the eyes of the men watching. I watched Dick begin the dance of love with Gina again, this time with my bride rather than my fiancée and this time in front of an audience. The passion was intense, the pleasure each of them was receiving was overpowering, and the dance was varied. He kept time to the music with his strokes and even varied the stroke depth and force depending on the music. He turned routinely, so regardless of where we stood, we saw everything. The circle of onlookers was within touching distance all around them and I even forcefully squeezed one guy’s neck from the back when he decided he needed his hands on Gina’s ass. It was not audience participation in that way.

For a few minutes all I heard was the music, Gina’s moans, and the squishing sounds of his cock fucking her cunt. I missed her words, so I was glad when Dick whispered in her ear to restart the interrogation.

“Ooohhh Dick … ooohh yes … I love being fucked like this.” Her verbal admission only verified what we all knew. Dick continued to whisper and it was obvious that she was answering his questions.

“Yes I love it … oohhh god they’re all watching … they’re watching you fuck me.”

“Oooohhh yes … I love your cock in my cunt.” Each of her answers was loud enough for everybody to hear, and with each answer Dick whispered another question.

“Mmmm yess … you’re the first man to fuck me since I got married this afternoon.” This was the ultimate in honesty.

“No … you’re not my husband … you were the best man.”

“Uh-huh … it’s so deep … your cock is in me further than anybody’s before you.” It was getting personal and I felt more than saw the many eyes look my way. Dick looked too, and I nodded for him to continue. I pride myself on honesty, and if they could bare their souls in front of so many people, I could at least let them be fully honest.

He took his mouth away from her ear to kiss her. They kissed as they fucked, and the passion in their kisses was almost as arousing as the intensity from their genitals. They were at exactly the correct height to fuck and kiss while “dancing”, and it was amazing to me that Dick kept them gradually rotating so every person watching got to see every part of the coupling from every angle.

Dick varied the way he fucked my gorgeous bride according to the music. He sometimes moved slowly and smoothly with each full stroke, and his cock was so long that each full stroke was a deep, penetrating thrust. Gina gasped each time he bottomed out this way, and everybody watching knew he was reaching points inside her cunt that had never been reached except by his cock. Other times, he fucked with quicker, shorter jabs, often rotating his entire pelvis to a faster beat.

Gina’s breath rate was nearly a constant pant, and it was independent of the music’s tempo. They were both sweating, and the sheen made each of their bodies more attractive. Dick spent a considerable amount of time squeezing her tits as he fucked her, but even more time kissing her. The white bridal veil still on her head framed their kisses and drove home the fundamental impropriety of their union. As the passion in their kisses escalated, so did the forcefulness with which his cock penetrated her cunt. Her moans while they kissed became increasingly intense, and we could easily tell she was approaching another orgasm when Dick quit kissing to whisper again in her ear.

“Ooohhh Dick … yes … it feels wonderful.” She moved her hands from his neck to his ass and pulled him tight to grind for a few seconds.

“Uh-huh … you’re fucking my married cunt soo well … I love how you fuck me.”

“Oooohh god yes … fuck me hard … make me come again.” Her arms went under his and grasped his shoulders. Dick clasped one knee and brought it up so her thigh was parallel to the floor before he began to fuck with animal-like speed. She hung on and moaned with each plunging thrust as he pumped with long, forceful, high frequency strokes. We could see her clenching and rotating her widespread cunt and her body dropping lower to maximize the contact pressure on her clit until he finally brought her over the bridge.

“Ooohhh yes … I’m coming again … oohh Dick … uh-huh … ooohhh … ooohhh yessss.” Dick grabbed her ass and remained motionless as she writhed on his cock. Her orgasm was at least as intense and prolonged as her first - perhaps even longer than a full minute - and the tension in the room was thick. I almost lost it again and I could hear heavy breathing from everybody near me. Gina’s entire body shook, clenched, and cramped so strongly that it almost appeared to be a seizure. Her vocal chords even quivered when her moans were interrupted by each powerful spasm.

I watched Dick begin again slowly and gradually with short, gentle, small rotations of his ass and gentle, loving kisses. It was at least a couple of minutes before he felt she was ready to intensify her feeling again, and he gradually built her arousal back with slow, short strokes and more passion in his kisses. The length, speed and force of his strokes all increased in direct proportion to her arousal, as did the tongue play and love in their kisses. I was amazed at how considerate he was toward Gina, and I understood why so many women fell for him. Her pleasure was his primary goal, and despite his rock-hard cock that had to be demanding release, he continued to focus on my bride’s pleasure.

He was a maestro as he strummed and stroked to make beautiful music from her body. We watched, listened and lusted to the symphony of two incredibly good-looking people fucking for all of us, but of course more for me than for anyone. I loved watching everybody else see my best friend and my gorgeous wife fuck, and I can’t ever remember a time when my erection was within a hair trigger of ejaculation for so long. It throbbed the entire time he fucked her.

It was probably five minutes or more before she was fully aroused again. As before, Dick quit kissing and whispered in her ear. She searched out my eyes and maintained contact while she answered.

“Ooohhh god … ooohhh god … okay I will … I’m sorry honey but I’ve got to tell them … Dick fucks me better than anybody … he fucks me better than you do.” She was right. I could see it. He did fuck her better than anybody, but now everybody in the room knew it as well. Dick and I already knew it, but it was not exactly something most people know about each other. I didn’t know what “grade” any of my friends would get for their talent at fucking, but I was sure none of the guys in that room could fuck her as well as he could. Hell, I doubted whether any of them could fuck her as well as I could. I loved her with all my heart, and in my own way I loved Dick too. I already knew it in the back of my mind, but during this public fuck it became obvious that Dick was going to be an important part of our marriage for a long time. It was only a very short time before my knowledge became public. Dick’s whisper forced another disclosure as again her eyes held mine.

“Ooohh god honey … I love Dick too.” She turned her eyes to Dick.

“I love you Dick.” She sought out his lips and this time closed her eyes and kissed with passion as her orgasm overwhelmed her. It was more intense than those preceding it - more violent and longer, but the primary difference was the emotion. Hers was the orgasm of a woman in love, not just the orgasm from sexual release. She verbally professed her love for him, but the message was delivered more strongly by her actions. Her adoring eyes, passionate kisses, and prolonged arousal clarified her love even more powerfully. Although the words never came from Dick, his body language spoke more eloquently than any words could. He was in love with my bride. This opened our lives even more for public exposure. It was more than a fuck; it was a love affair - my very young newlywed bride confessing her love for another man. I’m sure most people thought our marriage was over on the very day it started.

He held her tightly, quietly as her sensitive pussy calmed from the torrid climax. He was ready to pop but remained as motionless as he could until her desire returned. Gentle rocking indicated she was ready to begin and as she warmed her raw sexuality returned. Her eyes again sought the eyes of men fascinated by her body, and Dick sensed her need to show off. He turned her and fucked her doggy style, and both his hands went to work again. Gina’s eyes eagerly found the lust in the male eyes focused on her cunt, and she maneuvered to provide the best view as it was being openly penetrated by Dick’s long cock. She bent over and held her own ankles as he rocked her entire body back and forth on his motionless cock. After rocking her for a minute or so, he stopped moving her hips but still attained the same depth and frequency by pumping his pelvis. Her eyes held mine as he forcefully pumped until she appeared to remember her ankle bracelet. Her eyes focused on it as she ran her fingers over the etched letters, caressing them as if they could feel her touch.

His technique was varied enough to fix the eyes and shut the mouths of an entire roomful of people for a long time. It was almost hypnotic, and the tension kept building as Gina climbed from one orgasm to another, each successive one seemingly more pleasurable. As she spiraled toward her fourth, Dick whispered and she looked up from the anklet to again find my eyes.

“Ooohhh god yes … he has the best cock honey … he fills me more than anybody ever has … oooohh god I love his cock.” I didn’t say anything out loud but I mouthed the words “I know” as I smiled at her. Her eyes dropped to my pulsing cock and she smiled back. Dick was still fucking her from the rear so he saw and heard our exchange right in front of him. He caught my eye and grinned despite his intense arousal, then whispered again to Gina. She stared at me again.

“It says Dick’s … my ankle bracelet says Dick’s … I’m his when I wear it … my cunt belongs to Dick … ooohh I love it.” Her eyes never left mine. He whispered again.

“My new husband, my groom … oohh god that feels good … he gave it to me tonight … as a wedding present.” Another whisper.

“Uh-huh … it is honey … Dick’s making this the best fuck ever … ooohh god … his cock feels so good.” He plowed with strength and smoothness and I noticed, for the first time in a long time, that his strokes still kept time to the music. My mind had been ignoring the music, but I assumed he had been somehow conscious of the music since the last time I noticed how rhythmic he was. Talk about multi-tasking. I heard the soft sounds of his whisper.