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From jmcmanns@ionet.netMon Sep 11 19:07:56 1995
Date: 11 SEP 1995 16:11:52 GMT 
From: John McManus <jmcmanns@ionet.net>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: "The Ward's WILD Week" Chapter 5 

"THE WARD'S WILD WEEK"

CHAPTER 5 : Wednesday

  Gayla got Bill out of bed by 7 the next morning, then went to wake 
the kids. Brianna was already in the shower and Billy was up also, getting 
his baseball uniform together when she knocked on his door. She went 
downstairs and made coffee, drinking a cup while making breakfast for them 
all. After eating, Bill kissed her good-bye, saying with a wink, "See you 
at about noon." As he left the table, he squeezed Billy's arm and said, 
"Good luck in your game, slugger." Then he and Brianna were gone, leaving 
her alone with Billy.
  She contemplated talking to him about yesterday, but couldn't 
think of a way to begin. Finally, she decided to let it lie. She would 
talk to him later if he seemed troubled. Soon, he got up and went into the 
family room to watch MTV. Gayla cleaned up the breakfast dishes, then went 
up to pack Bill's things. When she had it all ready to go, she moved the 
full suitcase down to the front door, and hung the garment bag containing 
his suits on the coat rack. He always complained that she packed too many 
things, but if he did it himself he invariably left something important 
behind. She went back to the bedroom and changed the sheets on the bed to 
the black satin ones she kept put away for special romantic occasions. She 
then went back down to the kitchen to have another cup of coffee and 
relax.
  Billy went up at about 9:30 and got dressed in his uniform. He came down
carrying his glove and cleats and said, "Mom, I'm going to meet some of the
guys early. We're going to take some batting practice before we leave."
  "Okay, dear," she answered him. "Have a good time. I'll see you tonight."
  After he had gone, she went upstairs and took a leisurely bath, 
shaving her legs and washing her hair. Getting out, she toweled herself 
dry, then put on her robe and stood at the mirror to blow-dry her hair and 
curl it with a curling iron. Moving into the bedroom, she sat at her 
vanity to do her make-up. She chose a jade green eye shadow with a heavy 
black eye-liner and mascara, then lightly rouged her cheekbones, and 
finally, chose a bright crimson lipstick. She considered her reflection a 
moment.
  Satisfied, she sprayed on Bill's favorite perfume, then went into 
the walk-in closet and retrieved the sexy lingerie she had bought last 
weekend and hidden from Bill. After putting on the flimsy garments, she 
stood before the full length mirror to judge the effect. Black stockings 
sheathed her legs to the upper thigh, held up by a frilly black garter 
belt. Her black panties tied at the sides, so they could be removed 
without unhooking the garters, and they were so sheer she could see the 
individual pubic hairs through them. Topping the outfit was a black lace 
half-bra that held her large breasts up and out yet left the nipples 
uncovered to jut forward invitingly. God damn sexy, she thought, pinching 
her nipples into hardness. Just one more touch, then she could pick out a 
dress to go over it. 
  She glanced over at the clock by the bed. Five minutes before 
eleven, plenty of time, she thought, and re-entered the closet, spinning 
her revolving shoe rack. She found her black leather pumps with the three 
inch stiletto heels and placed them on the floor, stepping into them 
carefully. She didn't often wear high heels, so she was looking at her 
feet, concentrating on finding her balance when she emerged from the 
closet. When she looked up, there was a hulking figure standing in the 
doorway to the hall. 
  She let out a startled scream before recognizing Bill, standing 
there pointing a video camera at her. Putting a hand to her fluttering 
heart, she breathed a sigh of relief. "You nearly scared the life out of 
me." A scolding look came over her face and she put her hands on her hips. 
"You're early, mister. You weren't supposed to be here for another hour."
  He grinned at her from behind the viewfinder. "I couldn't wait," 
he said. "Nice outfit."
  She smiled. "You like?" she asked. "You weren't supposed to see it 
yet. Where did you get that camera?"
  She struck a sexy, calendar girl pose as he answered, "Roger lent 
it to me." Suddenly she froze when another figure entered the door to step 
past Bill. It was Roger, grinning from ear to ear. She had seen him many 
times over the years, of course, yet he had never mentioned their liaison, 
and never propositioned her again. She had often wondered if he even 
remembered it. He didn't much resemble the Roger of thirteen years ago, 
the once lean figure now given way to a middle aged paunch and the wavy 
brown hair now just a flap combed over a shiny, bald pate. She stood 
frozen, staring at him mutely, her mouth hanging open. Finally she was 
spurred into action by another figure entering behind Bill, who had not 
moved. She whirled and snatched up her robe that she had left lying on the 
vanity's seat. Clutching it to her chest, she turned back and saw a tall, 
gangly kid of about twenty standing behind Roger. He was at least six 
foot-three and had long, frizzy, mousy brown hair and a faint mustache the 
same color, and wore round, John Lennon-style glasses. He was not exactly 
skinny, but quite lean, wearing faded jeans and a green T-shirt. He looked 
like a hippie, she thought, and he had an eager look on his homely face. 
  She turned to Bill with a confused, questioning look. He continued 
filming and grinning, and said quietly, "I brought my army."
  A look of panic crept over her face as she realized what he was 
talking about, their playful banter the other morning. She started to make 
a run for the bathroom door, but didn't get two steps before a man 
appeared in the doorway. When he stepped through, she immediately 
recognized Art Fielding, another co-worker of Bill's whom she had known 
for years. He was in his mid-forties and built like a fire plug, short and 
wide, not fat, but thickly solid. He had short-cropped, sandy blonde hair, 
and his stoic features belied his timid nature. Like Roger, he was dressed 
in a suit and tie. Unlike Roger, who was still a bachelor, Art was married 
to a fat, Hispanic woman named Consuela, and they had six kids.
  Turning back to Bill with a frightened look, she asked shakily, "Bill?"
  From behind the camera, Bill said to her, "You remember Roger, Honey, and
Art, of course. And this is Jimmy. He works in the mail room."  He chuckled,
"But we all call him Holmes."
  Her mind couldn't believe what was happening, as if it were a 
dream. She looked confused, and asked numbly, "Holmes?" 
  The kid piped up and said, "After John Holmes, the porno guy." He 
leered at her.
  It slowly dawned on her who he meant. She and Bill had seen movies 
with the actor, who had a huge cock. Her eyes were involuntarily drawn 
down to the crotch of his blue jeans, where she saw an immense bulge 
running down his pantleg. Her face turned beet red and her heart thudded 
heavily.
  Roger stepped forward and snatched the robe from her. He had been 
waiting for this for thirteen years, for Bill to offer him another crack 
at his beautiful wife. He was an honorable man, in his own way. He would 
never make a play for a friend's wife. Unless, of course, that friend 
asked him to. He had given up on a repeat long ago, but then, yesterday, 
Bill had suggested it, saying she liked to tease, make him beg. "Not that 
I don't like it, mind you," Bill had said to him, "I just think it's high 
time I reciprocated." Bill had admitted to fantasizing about having 
several men fuck his wife, and Roger had suggested Art, because he was in 
much the same situation that Bill had been thirteen years ago. His wife 
was fat, and a devout Catholic, keeping Art on a short leash. And he had 
suggested Holmes because everyone knew about the size of his tool and 
Roger wanted to see Gayla Ward take that monster cock. Also, he had talked 
Bill into videotaping the event, managing to persuade him to make an extra 
copy for Roger.
  Gayla was trying in vain to cover her enormous breasts with 
crossed arms, backing away from him. "Hold her, Art," Roger commanded, and 
Art came forward to grab her upper arms in a vise-like grip. Roger pulled 
the sash from the robe and moved around behind her, pulling her wrists 
back to tie behind her back. 
  Gayla was shaking like a leaf as Roger bound her hands. It was 
fear, yes, but it was also a nervous excitement building in her. With her 
arms tied back, her breasts were thrust out even more, and her exposed 
nipples stood out like miniature crimson cocks. Roger reached out and 
pulled on one, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, looking into 
her eyes. "Get her sitting in that chair," he instructed the men, 
indicating the big easy chair in the far corner, next to a matching love 
seat. He then turned and walked into the bathroom. Art and Holmes 
maneuvered her backwards until she bumped her legs and fell into the soft 
chair.
  In a few moments, Roger came out with a bowl of water, a towel, a 
wet washcloth, a razor, shaving cream, and a small pair of scissors. My 
God, she thought, they're actually going to do it. He arranged the items 
on the floor in front of her, then removed his jacket and tie and knelt 
down in front of her. "Pull her legs up over the armrests," he ordered. 
Art and Holmes, on either side of the chair, each grabbed a leg and pulled 
it over the armrest on his side. She tried to squirm away from them, but 
they were too strong, and soon her legs were spread wide, her bottom 
pulled forward to the edge of the cushion. Looking down between her widely 
splayed thighs, she could see her plump labia through the gossamer fabric 
of her panties, and she knew the men could as well. Roger reached out and 
untied the strings on her panties and pulled them off of her, her pussy 
now bare before them. 
  "Holy Shit!" Holmes exclaimed. "Will you look at how much hair 
this little lady has? God Damn!"
  Again Gayla tried to squirm free, but it was no use. She felt a 
wave of sheer panic grab hold of her, starting to gasp for breath and 
trembling so violently her teeth started chattering. "Calm down, now," 
Roger said gently, making eye contact. "Just take it easy. Everything's 
gonna be just fine." He began rubbing her thighs softly, running his 
smooth hands up and down the soft, sensitive flesh. Looking into his eyes, 
she felt a tiny spark of the fire that had consumed her that night so long 
ago, and the panic faded. He may not be the looker he was, but he still 
had something. He ran his hands lower and lower, eventually brushing 
across the edges of her muff, all the while mesmerizing her with his 
steady gaze. Before she realized it, he was running his fingers all 
through her bushy pubic hair, and she was starting to enjoy it.
  Finally breaking eye contact but keeping one hand swirling through 
her tangled pubes, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out some 
little plastic bags and handed them to Art. He then reached down and found 
the scissors. Art, still holding her leg firmly with one strong hand, 
opened one of the little bags with his teeth and held it open for Roger. 
Roger lifted a thick tuft of hair and snipped it away with the scissors, 
dropping it into the baggie. He continued lifting and snipping, stuffing 
the hair into the bag, occasionally looking up into her eyes. When the bag 
had a goodly wad of hair, he took it from Art and sealed it, putting it in 
his pants pocket. He looked up into her now steady gaze and smiled. 
"Souvenir," he explained. Gayla said nothing, just continued to watch. 
Meanwhile, Bill hovered over Roger's shoulder, filming everything.
  Gayla watched as her muff diminished, Roger snipping and snipping, 
until he had filled three more little baggies, giving one to each man, 
including Bill, and all the long pubes were cropped short. He put away the 
scissors and dipped his hand in the bowl of water, bringing it up to wet 
down the bristling stubble that was left on her mound. He then sprayed 
shaving cream into his palm and spread it all around her spread pussy and 
between her ass cheeks. He washed the rest off his hands and picked up the 
razor. He began shaving from the top down, in short, careful strokes, 
rinsing the razor in the bowl to clear it. He removed the little trail of 
hairs leading up to her navel with one swipe of the razor. He held her 
labia aside while he shaved down the sides of her vagina, then told the 
guys to pull her legs back further so he could shave around her asshole. 
When he was finished, he picked up the washcloth, which had been steaming 
hot, and laid it over the shaved area, holding it firmly in place. Gayla 
sighed with pleasure, it felt deliciously warm on her bare cunny. After a 
few moments, he wiped away all the remaining shaving cream, pulling apart 
the folds of her labia to get every nook and cranny, then sat up to 
inspect his work.
  Gayla looked at her bare, white pussy, the fat pink lips standing 
open like the petals of a flower, exposed as they had never before been. 
She was by now terribly excited, having a man who was not her husband 
touch her most intimate places, and being obscenely exposed in front of 
friend and stranger alike. She caught her breath when Roger leaned forward 
and kissed her soft inner thigh. He looked up at her to gauge her 
reaction, then kissed her again, a little lower, then lower again, 
continuing until he was right next to her vulva, then repeating the 
procedure down the other leg. With his lips poised an inch above her, he 
stuck out his pink tongue and touched it to her pouting pussy lips. She 
gasped as he traced her labia with feather light licks from the tip of his 
soft tongue, then slowly snaked it between her lips and into her hot 
tunnel, bringing his mouth down to cover her vulva. She writhed and moaned 
as he fucked her with his tongue, then reached up to spread her pussy with 
his fingers, pulling the skin back from her swollen purple clitoris, 
licking and sucking the sensitive button. "Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes," she 
moaned, feeling her orgasm approaching, but just before she came, he 
pulled away. "Don't stop!" she cried plaintively, writhing on the cushion. 
"Please don't stop!"
  Roger sat up, grinning at her, and began to remove his clothes. 
She looked up at the others, still holding her down. Art looked down on 
her hungrily, nearly drooling with lust, and Holmes grinned at her 
confidently, as if this situation was nothing new to him. When she caught 
his eye, Holmes reached down with one hand and began squeezing her 
breasts, kneading the soft flesh and pinching her nipples. She looked back 
to Roger as he rose and dropped his slacks and underwear, his erect, 
sickle-shaped penis bobbing free. Grabbing his cock in his hand, he knelt 
back down in front of her and rubbed the head up and down her wet slit and 
over her tingling clit. Then he pulled it back and said, "Beg for it. Tell 
me how much you want it."
  Gayla gasped, taken aback for a moment. Those were the same words 
she used with Bill when she teased him. She looked over to her husband, 
whom she had nearly forgotten, but he continued filming, saying nothing. 
Then she looked back to Roger, her need taking control of her. "Please, 
Roger," she begged, "I want your cock in me. Please fuck me! Please!"
  Roger placed the head of his hard cock at the opening of her 
yearning vagina and slowly pushed it in to her tight hole. Gayla whimpered 
as she watched his smooth shaft slide into her bald cunt, sinking in to 
the hilt before withdrawing slowly until only the tip of the head was 
inside, then plunging in again, setting up a steady stroking rhythm. She 
watched as her plump pussy lips clung to his prick as he withdrew and then 
rolled inward with each thrust. He increased the pace of his pumping cock, 
slamming it into her harder and harder, causing her heavy breasts to roll 
on her chest and her breath to come in ragged gasps. She moaned, "Oh yes, 
fuck me, Roger! Fuck me! I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come, right nowww!" Her 
orgasm burst forth like a flood from a dam and she convulsed with waves of 
gratification as he pounded her pussy even faster. 
  When her orgasmic throes subsided, Roger stopped his thrusting and 
pulled his cock out of her, pulling her legs down off of the arms of the 
chair. She was surprised to note that the other two men were out in the 
middle of the room, starting to undress. She hadn't noticed them let go of 
her legs and move away. Standing up between her spread thighs, Roger 
pulled her into an upright sitting position and grabbed her hair, guiding 
his prick into her willing mouth. 
  Gayla tasted her own pussy juice as she sucked his slick cock. 
With her hands still tied behind her, she let him guide her head with 
handfuls of her short red hair and pump his penis in and out of her 
sucking mouth, just as he had thirteen years before. Faster and faster he 
pumped as she sucked and slurped, until he cried out and shot hot come 
into her mouth. She swallowed greedily as his spasming prick filled her 
mouth with spurt after spurt of hot come. When he finished, she licked his 
cock clean, looking up at his face. He gazed down at her intently for a 
several moments, then bent down, taking her face gently between his hands, 
and kissed her, deeply and passionately, his tongue intertwining with 
hers, heedless of the semen she had just swallowed. He broke the kiss and 
looked into her eyes again. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered, then 
turned and crossed the room to the bathroom, picking up his underwear on 
the way.
  Holmes and Art, now both naked, were walking toward her. Side by 
side, Holmes tall and thin, Art short and stocky, they reminded her of 
Abbot and Costello, and she began to giggle, but was sobered by the sight 
of their stiff cocks. Art's was about six inches, although it looked 
shorter because it was so thick, shaped like a wedge, with a pointed head 
widening out to an incredibly thick base, probably as big around as it was 
long. Nearly his entire body was covered in thick sandy-blonde hair, 
making him look like a teddy bear. But it was Holmes' oversized organ that 
made her gasp in wonderment. It was over ten inches long and was almost as 
big around as a beer can, with an immense purple head and a scrotum 
underneath that was the size of a tennis ball. She could see why they had 
nicknamed him Holmes. Tearing her eyes away as they stopped in front of 
her, she looked up at them and asked huskily, "What did you boys have in 
mind?"
  "We want to do you at the same time," Holmes answered eagerly. 
"Him in your pussy and me in your ass." As she doubtfully looked down at 
the size of his cock, he added, "Don't worry, it'll fit. My girl takes it 
all the time, and she loves it. And she's just a little thing, too. Lots 
smaller than you."
  Gayla considered for a moment and they were afraid she was going 
to say no, but when she spoke, she only said, "Would one of you gentlemen 
care to untie me?" They scrambled to comply, Holmes getting there first. 
When she was free, she stood and sashayed past them, walking over to the 
vanity. Feeling wantonly slutty, she stuck her garter belt-framed ass out 
exagerratedly as she bent over to fix her smudged lipstick in the mirror. 
  When she finished and turned back around, Roger came back in 
through the door to the hall, wearing his underwear and carrying a six 
pack of beer in his hand. "Found this in the fridge," he said. "You mind?"
  Gayla laughed and said, "Help yourself." You didn't ask if you 
could come in my mouth, but you ask if you can drink my beer, she thought 
wryly.
  Roger smiled back and said, "Don't mind if I do." He went over and 
sat on the love seat, opening a bottle and taking a swig.
  Strutting in her sexy lingerie and high heels, she walked over to 
the bed and pulled back the spread and top sheet. Turning back to Art and 
Holmes, who were still standing by the chair, she smiled slyly and called 
them over with a crooked finger. Breaking into huge smiles, they hurried 
over to her. She stepped up to Art, so close that her nipples pressed 
against his furry chest. With her high heels on, she was taller than him. 
She kissed him lightly on the lips, then gave him a rough shove, causing 
him to fall to his back on the bed. She reached over to open the drawer of 
the night stand by the bed and pulled out a tube of lubricant. Turning to 
Holmes, she handed him the tube and eyed his tremendous cock again, 
shaking her head skeptically. She touched it tentatively, stroking the 
foreskin back and forth. Her fingers did not reach all the way around it. 
She looked up at him and asked, "How old are you, anyway?"
  He grinned down on her. "I turned nineteen last month," he 
answered.
  My God, she thought, he's barely older than Brie. Looking down at 
his pole one more time, she said, "Wait until I tell you," then turned 
back to the bed.
  She climbed onto the bed and straddled Art's thighs, reaching down 
to stroke his wedge-like prick into full hardness, and stuck her butt out 
toward Holmes. "Okay, grease me up," she instructed him over her shoulder, 
"and use a lot." She rubbed Art's cock as Holmes smeared the lube between 
her cheeks, then stuck the opening of the tube directly into her puckered 
asshole and squeezed a good ounce of the slippery gel into her rectum. 
Withdrawing the tube, he slid his long, thin finger into the tight hole, 
swirling the lube and working it deep into her. She reached back and 
pushed his hand away, and said, "Now do that thing of yours."
  With Roger watching from the love seat, and Bill hovering around 
capturing everything on video, Gayla moved up and guided Art's fat prick 
into her shaved snatch, groaning as her cunt was stretched wide by its 
girth. She slowly slid up and down on it a few times to get accustomed to 
its thickness, then leaned forward, lying atop Art's chest, and took a 
shuddering breath. "Okay, do it," she said hoarsely.
  Holmes, with both hands full of greased dick, climbed onto the bed 
and also straddled Art's thighs. Gayla felt the massive head of his cock 
slip between her ass cheeks to press firmly up against her anus. He leaned 
over her back, pushing forward with a slow, steady pressure. "Oh God!" 
Gayla groaned, wincing as the bludgeoning head slowly forced its way into 
her tight asshole, stretching it impossibly wide, Art's thick wedge 
imbedded in her pussy making it even tighter. She ground her engorged clit 
into the base of Art's cock, moaning, "Oh God! Oh God! I'm gonna come 
already! Oh God! I'm gonna...Uuunnnnnggghhhh!" Just as the huge cockhead 
popped fully through her clenching sphincter, her orgasm exploded over 
her. She sank her teeth into Art's shoulder as she rode the orgasmic 
waves, inch after inch of Holmes' colossal cock sliding into her ass, 
filling her more fully than she had ever been before.
  When her orgasm finally abated and she had recovered somewhat, 
Gayla levered her body up on hands and knees and began to ride up and down 
on Art's wide dick, as Holmes began fucking her ass in incredibly long 
strokes. Art reached around behind her back to unhook her bra, and she 
pulled her arms out of the straps as he pulled it down, letting her hefty 
tits hang free. She increased her bouncing pace as Art squeezed her 
breasts together and lifted his head to lick and suck her stiff nipples 
and Holmes grabbed her undulating hips to pump harder and faster.
  "Ooh, suck harder, Artie," she urged. "And bite them. Bite my 
nipples! Harder!" She slammed her pussy down on his cock as fast as she 
could as he sucked and bit her 3/4 inch nipples, and Holmes drilled his 
mighty log into her bunghole. "Oh yes! Fuck me harder! Harder!" she 
screamed. "Fuck my pussy and my ass! My pussy and my ass!" Art bucked his 
hips up into her wildly and bit down brutally on her right nipple, 
grunting like an animal as he came, shooting his load into her wildly 
fucking pussy. 
  "Aaiiieeeeeeee!" Gayla's banshee wail echoed throughout the house 
as the intense pain from her nipple and the hot flood of come combined 
with the monster cock frenziedly fucking her asshole to trigger another, 
even more intense climax. Right at the peak of her orgasm, Holmes seized 
her shoulders and rammed his gigantic staff up her battered asshole to the 
hilt, shooting come deep into her bowels, bowing her back as he ground his 
pelvis into her ass, trying to shove it even deeper. She thrashed 
insensately, shrieking at the top of her lungs as her orgasm redoubled in 
strength, seeming to go on and on until a black hole opened and swallowed 
her into its infinite depths.
  When Gayla regained her senses, she didn't know how long she had 
been out. She was lying alone on the sheet, face down. Groaning, she 
rolled over onto her back. Looking up, she saw Roger standing at the side 
of the bed, his erect penis in his hand. Grinning down at her, he asked, 
"Are you ready for round two?"

* * * * *


