Me, You, My Wife, and Yours Pt. 06

Helen had brought a laundry bag full of crap and had thrown it in the back seat.

She began, feverishly, readying herself in the car. Twisting around and pulling items out of the bag, she dressed into the stunning and slutty white lingerie ensemble she had worn earlier.

Seeing how quickly she put on panties, fishnets, high heels, a corset, gauntlets and a choker, all within three minutes and while sitting in a car, made me wonder why it always took her so long to get dressed standing up. Then, using a tiny visor mirror and while driving in a car, she applied perfect eyeliner to both eyes with two single strokes of the applicator.

The most attractive feature of her whole slutty ensemble had to be how the skimpy push-up bra on that tight corset made her already impressive tits bulge up and stick out. They were barely covered, with the pink crescents of both her areolas peaking out over the top. Her already gorgeous tits looked perky, massive and glorious.

As she applied pink glossy lipstick to her lips, I couldn’t help finding her frantic efforts to get dolled up a bit odd.

“Babe,” I said, as she smeared lipstick on her cheeks for blush and rubbed it in, “Why do you care how you look?”

Helen shot a quick glance at me and shrugged. “There’s going to be forty guys there, Harry. I don’t want to look like a skank.”

She took another hasty pull from her Peppermint Schnapps, swallowed and applied more lipstick to her cheeks.

I scoffed and chuckled. “You’re going to be sucking their dicks. I don’t think they’ll care.”

“Guys always care. Besides, you’ll be there… and this is your fantasy, right?” She looked sidelong at me. “Your ‘Helen as a filthy whore’ fantasy? (see ‘Wife to Sex Slave’ by Hofeeder on literotica.com) Where you fuck me in the ass after I get a belly full of cum? I’m doing this for Janet because I have to.” She turned her head, and looked directly at me as she closed the visor. “But I’m really doing this for you, ain’t I?”

She looked at me with an excited smile growing bigger on her face. “Ain’t I, Harry?” she repeated.

I nodded.

Speaking lower, Helen said, “I never dreamed we could EVER make that sick fantasy of yours actually happen. Did you? Now there are forty fucking men waiting for me to suck their dicks? This is truly insane, Harry. I am about to make your wildest fantasy come true… and honestly… that… that really… REALLY… fucking turns me on. It actually makes me WANT to do this.”

I smiled and my heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you, Baby,” I said, “You are so amazing, and so beautiful, and I feel so… so fucking loved by you right now.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “You know, I was wrong. Helen doesn’t ONLY love Helen. Helen loves Harry, too.”

I thought saying that would please her and make her smile even more. Instead, her excited smile faded into a lopsided, somber smirk. She shook her head, took in a long breath and let it out in a wistful sigh. “You still… don’t get it.”

“How so?”

She scooted over on the bench seat of our station wagon, and pulled my arm over her shoulders as she sidled up to me. She took a long pull from her Schnapps, and gulped it down.

“If Helen loved Helen… even just a little bit… she would never agree to sucking off forty strange men.”

Using four fingers to gently and slightly shift my face toward hers as I watched the road, she put her Peppermint flavored lips to mine.

It was only our lips pressing together, but it was warm, loving and sensual.

After our lips parted, Helen dropped her head heavily onto my shoulder and let out another sigh. “No, Harry,” she said, her voice low, strained and nearly breaking. “Helen used to only love Helen… now Helen fucking hates Helen.”

“You hate yourself?” I said, concerned at her melancholy tone. She seemed on the verge of tears. I squeezed her tighter with my arm. “But why, Babe? Why?”

Helen whispered, “For everything… for everything I did to you… for every single time… I hurt you.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Helen had fucked up just about as much as a dirty cheater can fuck up.

I wanted to tell her everything was forgiven and everything would be okay, but it wasn’t and it wouldn’t.

Still, the only thing I could do was to completely and totally forgive her, to somehow get her to stop hating herself and punishing herself for everything she had done.

I didn’t want to at the time. I was still angry at her, and I wanted to see her debase herself, but I should have.

I should have slammed on the brakes, both metaphorically and physically, proclaimed to Helen that her every single transgression was completely and totally forgiven, turned that fucking car around and drove both our stupid asses back home.

I could have done that right there and right then. I could have put a stop to the madness that was just about to happen that night right there, in that car, and right then, at that very moment in our lives, but I didn’t.

Like the stupid, bone-headed moron that I am, I fucking didn’t.

Helen cleared her throat, and smiled at me. She said, “Well, anyway, I saw the camcorder and tripod cases in the back seat while I was getting ready. You must be so excited.”

I nodded, not able to contain a giddy smile. “Absolutely.”

Turning even more toward me, she grabbed my cock through my pants and squeezed. She giggled. “I knew it. I knew you would be, you dirty, dirty boy. Are you going to enjoy filming me sucking off all those random cocks… and drinking down all those nasty, disgusting loads?”

“Fuck yeah,” I said, my cock responding to her dirty talk just as much as her hand, which repeatedly squeezed and released the growing bulge in my jeans.

“I am not…,” she said, speaking in her low pitched, seductive voice, as she squeezed my cock every time she paused, “Going to let Janet… swallow a single load… I am going to drink every drop of cum…. and drain every set of balls at that party… completely fucking dry.”

Helen lifted her lips to my ear and whispered, “When my tummy is full of cum, are you going fuck me hard in my ass?”

My cock throbbed as erect as it could possibly be while constricted by pants. “Oh my God, yes!”

Helen giggled. She pulled away and gulped her Schnapps, draining the bottle dry.

Tossing the empty over her shoulder into the back seat, she said, “I’m going to need a lot more Schnapps, Harry.” She giggled again. “Be a good hubby and grab me a big bottle at the bar if you can. Oh, and make sure you get Janet a big Black Russian. She’s going to need it, too.”

“I will.”

Helen lit a Newport and we shared it.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the V.F.W., I hit the brakes. It was so packed with cars and full of groups of people milling about and walking into the bar that it amazed me.

“Holy shit,” I exclaimed, “What a fiesta!”

Helen roared laughing, harder than I had ever seen her laugh. She slapped my thigh, and bent forward, shedding tears as she continued to convulse in fits of laughter.

Confused, but wearing a huge contagious smile, I asked, “What is so goddamned funny?”

Hardly able to get the word out between her laughing spasms, she shouted, “Fiesta!” And laughed even harder.

I chuckled, shook my head and crept through the busy parking lot, looking for a place to park. Helen’s laughter trailed off, and she wiped tears off her face with my terry cloth bathrobe before pulling it on over her slutty ensemble.

Parking in a far corner of the dirt and gravel parking lot, we got out of the car.

I grabbed the camera and tripod out of the back seat by their straps and slung them over my shoulder. Helen grabbed her laundry bag full of shit out of the opposite door, met me at back of the car and handed it to me, as well.

“Why do we still need this?” I asked, shaking the bag.

“More clothes for Janet and I, masks for all of us to hide our identities and a set of your scrubs from work.”

We headed for the building.

Despite the big load I carried, I helped Helen walk, holding her arm, as she stepped carefully over the rough terrain in her white, five-inch high-heeled shoes.

“Masks, eh?” I said, impressed with her thinking. “Good idea, but where the hell did you get masks?”

“Leftover from last Halloween. I picked up a dozen of them for your sister’s party, just in case some people came without costumes, but I forgot them in our bathroom… thank God. They’ve been in there under the sink ever since. So I grabbed the whole bag.”

“Good idea. What kind of masks, like the medieval spooky ones or the kind for little kids, like Casper?”

“Like the Lone Ranger kind,” she said, “But different colors, white, black, red, and yellow, I think.”

I chuckled. “That’s absolutely perfect. You’re a genius… but why did you bring a set of my scrubs?”

Helen smiled, and raised her eyebrows. “You don’t think I’m putting forty cocks in my mouth that haven’t been checked for sores, rashes and warts by a medical professional, do you?”

“Oh, shit!” I said, letting out a disgusted groan. “Really? You want me to check their cocks?”

She cackled loudly and said, “What the hell are you complaining about? All you have to do is check them. I have to suck them.”

I shrugged. “You know I’m a bit homophobic… and that’s kind of… awkward.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby. I have surgical gloves, a flashlight and even a surgical mask in there. Just be professional. They’ll think you really are a doctor. It will be fun.”

“Fun?” I said, scoffing.

“Just do it for me… and for Janet.”

I nodded. “Okay,” I said, really proud of how smart and efficient my wife was being. “You thought of fucking everything, Helen. Have I ever told you how amazing you are?”

“Once or twice, but not often enough.”

I chuckled.

Looking around at all the cars, Helen said, “What is going on here? Why is it so busy? Is there a band playing?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said, “At least there wasn’t an hour ago. It was dead. Maybe they have a band now, upstairs in the bar. The bachelor party is downstairs, a small private party, only those forty guys.”

“I’m in a bathrobe and dressed like a total slut. Let’s just hurry through all the people in there and get downstairs.”