Chapter Five – The vacation comes to an end
I woke up the following morning with a thumping headache and a raging thirst. The morning light was painful so I quickly shut my eyes and lay there for a few minutes drawing deep breaths in an attempt to orientate myself and get my thoughts in order. Eventually my stomach told me it had calmed down and I wasn’t going to embarrass myself if I moved so I opened my eyes to look at the softly snoring Helen alongside me us both half wrapped in a crumpled sheet which, when I properly focussed, I saw was liberally spotted with questionable stains. No puzzle to think where they had come from as the memory of what had gone on last night on this very bed but, looking beyond her, it was a puzzle to see a pile of banknotes sitting on Helen’s nightstand. It looked to be a tidy sum and I knew it wasn’t mine.
With my world coming back into focus I eased myself from the bed but not as carefully as I intended for the movement of the sheet was enough to disturb her. She gave me a sleepy smile and held out her arms inviting me to give her a good morning hug. I bent down to give her a kiss and was not surprised to taste cum on her lips, someone else’s cum, not mine.
“Morning, sleepy head. How are you?”
She gave a contented groan and stretched her arms above her head. The sheet slipped from her and I looked at her naked form.
“By Golly, you look a bit .... er ...untidy,” I said struggling to find the right words to describe what had been revealed. Her breasts were marked with what looked suspiciously like bites; her pussy seemed to be stretched open and was distinctly more red and puffy than I had seen before and on her stomach and legs were what could only be the dried remains of spunk, lots of spunk.
“Mmm, I’m fine,” she said as she came back to size after her stretch.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes, “What’s the time? I’m famished. Get me a cup of tea for starters, will you.” All said without pause and with no acknowledgement to my obvious puzzled expression.
I did as I was told and went into the kitchen alcove and bustled about making tea. “Do you want cereal for breakfast?”
There was no answer to my call other than the sound of her in the bathroom which explained why my question hadn’t been heard. A few minutes later she emerged still in a trance-like state but looking considerably better than before not least because she had obviously washed the stains from her body. The bite marks were still there and, I’m not sure if she was aware it was happening, as she walked toward me, hand out to take her cup of tea, cum was oozing from her pussy and beginning to dribble down her legs. She giggled when I said, “God, you look like you’ve been well used.”
She wrapped herself in a towel and we went out onto the patio to drink our tea whilst we watched the world outside wake up. When I gauged she was sufficiently awake I asked, “What’s that pile of money on your bedside?”
She was momentarily confused then said, “Oh that; that’s my wages.”
“Wages?”
“Yeah, my share.”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She smiled and said, “It’s complicated and I suppose I should be sorry that things got a bit out of hand but it was fun. It was a pity you crashed out so soon, it was just the sort of thing you would have enjoyed watching.”
I was about to say that I had seen quite a lot and that I had some fond if somewhat hazy memories but she cut me off, “Don’t interrupt and I’ll explain.”
I struggled to keep my mouth shut as she continued, “You remember last week when we went to Oistins and Dale introduced me to his cousin and we went up that alleyway and I let him fuck me whilst I gave Dale a Blowjob?”
How could I forget, it was a wonderful sight and I had had the most glorious wank as I watched from the shadows.
“Well,” she said, “afterwards I said to Dale I had felt just like a Prostitute and that he was my Pimp. What’s more I said to him that it was like a fantasy come true for I’m sure there are a lot of women who share such thoughts and would like to know what it’s like to be treated that way. He laughed at the idea but said if I wanted that he could make it happen, ‘if that’s what you want to do.’ He did ask about you and what you might say but I told him you would do as you were told.”
I was both intrigued and excited mixed with a tinge of humiliation to think I had been referred to in this way but, then again as I so often acknowledge, it’s in our ‘rules’.
“He asked me if I was really serious and I told him that I was and that it would be a really really naughty thing to do and that I knew you would get your jollies as well so we decided the BBQ party would provide a perfect opportunity but that we needed to be a little organised as despite him being well known that he reckoned once the word got around that I was for sale there would be plenty of strangers who would want to buy. I think he was as excited as I was at the idea. Anyway, knowing we couldn’t be too obvious we came up with a sort of code that would let me know what ‘services’ I was going to sell.”
She took a sip of her tea as I sat there open-mouthed with amazement at her matter-of-fact fashion in relating this but this was Helen at her best; forthright with not a hint of embarrassment.
She put her cup down and dabbed her mouth, “Anyway, he said that we would go to the dance floor and while I danced around with the girls, as we do, he would tout for customers. When he found a taker he would tell them I would give either a blowjob or a fuck and negotiate a price. Once they agreed he would then bring them to me whilst we were still dancing and they would be introduced as a friend or a cousin. If it was a friend that meant that they had paid for a blowjob; if it was a cousin then they had paid more, a lot more, and would get to fuck me.”
So that was what all the whispering and the subterfuge was all about I thought as I replayed the events in my mind of the last couple of days. My head was spinning at the thought that this had all been pre-planned; contrived and that I had been a witness to it all and that now my wife had the reputation of being a common whore. How humiliating to think that I might be now regarded with even less respect by the locals than I may have before when she embarked on her new ‘career’. Humiliating, Yes, but my groin was signalling otherwise for as she sat there looking so prim and proper with her tea cup in hand, a hand that twinkled with diamond ring I had just bought her, I could feel my cock was becoming uncomfortably restrained by my pyjama bottoms.
I struggled to find the words but say it I did, “There seems to be an awful lot of money in there; how much did you charge?”
“Oh, I have no idea. Dale did all the negotiating; I just enjoyed getting the cock; I would have done it for free ... but I didn’t tell him that. That pile of money is what he gave me when everyone left. He said it was my cut; my ‘wages’. What he had charged I haven’t a clue but it must have been worth it, don’t you think? Not bad for a night’s work and I certainly got my money’s worth,” she said with a giggle.
I looked back inside at the pile of notes and estimated there must have been the equivalent of $200 (US, not Bajan!). I was speechless but not helpless for her little explanation had fired me up so much and my cock was now straining even more against my pants. I pushed them down to relieve the tension and almost gave a cry as my stiff little nubbin poked out, dribbles of sticky juice beginning to flow from my glans.
Helen did give a cry but it was one of amusement, “Oh my gosh, whatever do you think you are doing you naughty boy?”
“You know damn fine what I’m doing,” I said with as much mock forcefulness as I could muster. “All this talk has got me so excited and the thought of you being a prostitute has taken our game to whole new level. Come on, let’s get back to bed and let me at least have a taste of what you willingly sold last night.”
My outburst caused her to laugh even more and she said, “OK, alright then, let’s go but if you think you’re going to put that stubby little thing anywhere near me then think again Buster. For one thing, I am so sore that I don’t need any more aggravation and secondly you’re so small and I am so stretched out that I doubt if I would feel anything with you sloshing around even if I did allow you to stick it in.”
I wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not and my face must have reflected my confusion.
“Aw, come on, I’m only joking,” she said. “Let’s go and have a lie down but I am serious about being sore; I don’t think I can be mucked about with down there. But you can give my pussy a kiss and a lick to make me feel better and then if you make a good job I’ll give you a blowjob in return.”
My sad face lit up and she led me back into the bedroom and we lay down. I applied myself to the task of cleaning her up in the way that we know only too well, her lying on her back and me on my knees head between her thighs lapping away and stroking my stiff little cock as I did so. She made all the appropriate noises as I probed and pushed my tongue all around her wet folds and eventually she gave an extended sigh as I bought her to a satisfactory climax. I sat back on heels, my face covered in a mixture of my saliva, her juices and goodness knows whose cum. Without asking I laid down beside her in anticipation of her reciprocating and giving me some welcome relief.
“OK, it’s a blowjob you want, right?”
I nodded my head.
“That’ll be $20 dollars up front then.”
My face must have been a picture as I realised what she was proposing.
She creased up with laughter, “Just joking,” she said as she leaned down and took me in her mouth. I lasted all of 20 seconds before I was gushing like a fountain.
******
Our holiday was coming to an end; we only had a couple of days remaining before we returned to cold, old England and we spent most of our time in the vicinity of our apartment, either on the patio or the beach below, sunbathing, reading or taking the occasional drink at the beach bar. Often when we were away from our flat sipping our drinks we would be greeted by passing locals some of whom I recognised, others not, and I was sure I could read in their expressions amongst the whispered conversations between themselves they recognised Helen as being the ‘whore’ at the weekend BBQ. I squirmed inside at the thought.
My wife was true to her word about being uncomfortable from all the sexual frenzy of the past weekend and as pathetic as I might plead with her there was no sex for me other than her ‘allowing’ me to lick her sore pussy. I was commanded to stay licking until she came to a gentle climax and she seemed to get satisfaction from not only the administrations of my tongue but also from telling me how wonderful it had been to have been fucked by real cocks; big cocks; black cocks and not by my silly little boy penis. She knew that I enjoyed being humiliated by this talk and as I stroked, spurted and dribbled my own climax I supposed we both got what we wanted.
We got a message from Dale via the bar staff that he wanted to take us out for a final night before we went home. Apparently there was to be a Karaoke evening at a Rum Shack he knew which was renowned for being a great night out. The bar girl who delivered the message had a look that suggested there might be more than a sing-along involved. Why he couldn’t have come and to deliver the invite himself I have no idea other than recognising that this off-hand manner was so typical of the Bajans. Helen was thrilled at the idea; I had misgivings but knew that my opinion was of no account.
As per his message he came by to collect us with a ‘cousin’ driving a borrowed car and we made our way towards Bridgetown. Even with my scant knowledge of the place I could tell as we passed through the bright lights that we were not going to be hitting the tourist spots and indeed we left the city behind and turned off the main road to thread our way through dark streets into what I guessed was somewhere behind the port. We turned into a non-descript Side Street and stopped outside a sorry looking building illuminated by a neon sign that suggested it might be a place that sold drinks. Dale expressed satisfaction that we had found the right place and out we tumbled to enter into a dingy square room which had a variety of benches, chairs and tables (all non-matching) arrayed around three walls; the other wall was filled by a bar. Once inside we accustomed ourselves to the gloom and saw that there we already a few couples and a bunch of blokes occupying some of the tables. To one side there was a Karaoke machine set up and a couple of ceiling mounted screens glowing presumably awaiting the first ‘orders’. It looked to be a very amateurish set-up but, what the heck, we were out for an evening of fun and certainly my expectations when the suggestion was made weren’t very high.
We found a table and settled down. Helen suggested that I might like to go and sort out some drinks for the four of us and I dutifully made my way to the bar and ordered a round of Rum Punches to get the evening going. By the time I returned Helen and Dale were already head-to-head whispering and I nervously stood to one side as they conferred about something that I was clearly not meant to hear.
Suddenly the music started and so did they, jerking apart in surprise. I put the drinks down and with hardly a glance to me they picked up and clinked glasses as in a toast. What they were saluting I couldn’t hear above the noise but I caught the accompanying winks between them.
The MC moved to a table across the room and gave the microphone to the white female sitting with, presumably, her husband and another dark fellow. She got to her feet and began to sing trying to keep up with the words on the screen above her head. I don’t remember the name of the song but I do remember she sounded awful. She obviously shared my opinion because she quickly handed over the microphone to her husband who was pushed to his feet by their black companion giving the poor chap no choice. His place was taken by his wife who snuggled up to the dreadlocked guy and the pair of them seemingly revelled in the embarrassment of the performer as they laughed as he stumbled through. His embarrassment might have been made even worse if he could have seen what I could see; his wife was openly stroking the black man’s cock through the fabric of his shorts. Then again, perhaps he could see.
“Oh dear, what have we come to,” I thought.
The number ended and another started and the hapless husband returned to his table where the wife had by now extracted a stiff black cock from the confines of her companion’s shorts. Even in the gloom I could see that the reputation of the black man was borne out as the stiff penis looked a monster. She evidently thought likewise and with us all looking on she licked her lips and bent down to begin giving some personal attention to the ebony object wrapped by her white hand. Hubby sat meekly by and turned his attention to the floor where another ‘victim’ had been given the microphone and at the noisy behest from his table was centre stage trying to follow the song that was being played. His white lady likewise had someone else to keep her company whilst he did so. I was becoming increasingly nervous that far from being a simple karaoke that this was really a setup for entertainment of another kind and, more pointedly, that I was destined to become part of it.
A few more numbers were stumbled through and with drinks being plied throughout the behaviour around the crowded room was becoming more raucous. The table which had started the alternative entertainment was rewarded with a muted cheer of approval when the white wife jerked her head back from the groin of her black friend and we saw a fountain of spunk shoot from his cock to splatter over her face. Her husband stared fixedly at the floor.
In the dark corner by the bar it was obvious that another ‘wife’ was being seriously fucked from behind as she held on to the bar counter and her dark invader had her skirt held up around her waist as he pounded rhythmically into her in time with the music. How we all smiled at that interpretation. We could see her husband was sat nursing his drink at their table across the room seemingly unconcerned.
So the evening went on. I had been given the microphone earlier but nothing too untoward occurred between Helen, Dale and his cousin whilst I was giving an uninspired rendition to some obscure song or at least not that I could see. However, that state of affairs was not to last and with Helen drinking too many Rum Cocktails, far too quickly it was no surprise to me to see her become more and more uninhibited.
Our table had attracted more of Dale’s friends to join us and once again I was dispatched to the bar to get yet another round. As I waited to be served I looked back and could see the added attraction of our table. In her drunken state she had somewhere between me leaving the table and getting to the bar managed to lose her blouse and anyone who cared to look could see her perfect tits held invitingly by her half cup bra. Sitting on one side she had Dale, on the other someone who I didn’t recognise, both of them had their shorts pulled down to their knees and needing no invite she had both their stiff cocks in hand.
I made my careful way back with the drinks keeping an eye on both the wobbling tray in my hands and on the handfuls that Helen was now stroking. Both of them had leaned back so that we could all clearly see two impressive black erections enwrapped by her two white hands. As I approached the table she smiled at me with a dreamy look in her eyes; I wasn’t convinced that she was actually seeing me as she continued to masturbate her willing subjects. Without taking my eyes off of the obscene sight I absent-mindedly handed out the drinks and was pleased to see that as she softly rubbed up and down that both of them were beginning to seep and dribble pre-cum which was now being spread by her fair hands. I stood and with my own cock straining its erection in my shorts wondered just how long they would be able to last before the inevitable conclusion.
I watched breathlessly waiting for the spurts to begin and noticed that along with her blouse that she had also lost her panties or, maybe, she had never worn any tonight in the first place. Then my view of her was interrupted by the vista of a black backside of one of the other ‘guests’ at the table who stood up and placed himself in front of her. With his own shorts down around his ankles it was obvious that he was presenting his own cock to her. She needed no further invitation and without her hands missing a beat I saw her lean forward and presumed she had taken him into her mouth. I was entranced.
My trance was broken when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and there was the MC thrusting the microphone, “Your lady wants you to sing this one,” he said with a smirk.
I tore my eyes away from the wank fest and tried to focus on the screen to see what I was supposed to be singing; it was ‘My Way’. “How appropriate,” I thought. Even in her drunken state she still hadn’t lost her sense of humour.
I really didn’t need to be looking at the words; it’s one of those songs that everybody knows and I warbled my way through giving it my best Frank Sinatra impression as I focussed on her own performance. It was very appropriate that as I got to the line, ‘.. and now the end is near,’ that I saw Dale and then the other guy both erupt as Helen’s hands had become almost a blur pumping up and down. The fellow who she was sucking at the same time gave a jerk of his buttocks and I guessed he must have cum too. He stepped away on shaky legs and another fellow took his place. I just had time to see her cum-covered face before he too obscured my view. However, he wasn’t interested in any oral attention for her grabbed her by the waist and pulled her towards him and with a shove must have buried himself to the hilt in her shaven pussy. I heard her squeal her approval as two other fellows took the place of Dale and his mate who had rolled away. They stood either side of her as she was being steadily fucked and they had their cocks out and waving them in from of her cum-covered face. She gave each of them equal attention as she wanked first one whilst she sucked on the other and then she would change over to do the same to the other one.
My song came to an end but there was no applause for everyone was concentrating on what was happening around our table or were indulging in carnal activities of their own. The room seemed to be filled with grunts, passionate moaning, cries as someone or other was climaxing. It seemed like I was in the midst of and being the spectator to a complete orgy.
Almost hyperventilating, I felt my shorts being pulled down and turned in surprise to see CherieAnn with Nyah grinning at me as I stood there with my shorts around my ankles unable to walk and with my stiff little dribbling dick pointing towards Helen and her companions. CherieAnn gestured in the same direction, “Hey Whitey, like what you’re seeing huh?”
I nodded dumbly as she pulled down her top and ******* her beautiful ebony globes. “Like these as well, do you?”
I moved to give her tits a kiss but she moved back, “Uh uh ..,” she laughed and restrained by my shorts I couldn’t follow. Nyah standing behind me gave a snigger.
“What about this,” she said lifting the short hem of her skirt to ****** her cunt. I groaned at the sight of the red gash perfectly framed with black curly pubic hairs. I almost fell as I involuntary tried to make a move in her direction but was held by Nyah’s steadying hold on my arm. Those in the room who weren’t otherwise occupied were getting great amusement as they witnessed my discomfort. My humiliation was made worse when CherieAnn left me and joined the group around Helen who was still being attended by the unknown assailant. She bent down and gave Helen a kiss and then without any hesitation straddled Dale who was sitting alongside his cock miraculously and still impressively stiff. He held her waist and she sat down and impaled herself. She wriggled and turned to see if I was watching.
Watching? Of course I was and the tableau in front of me of her being filled by Dale’s fat cock; Helen being fucked whilst sucking other cocks and having Nyah whispering and licking the side of my face was all too much. I felt myself being overwhelmed by the approaching climax. It came upon me at the same time as I felt Nyah’s hand slide down my stomach to touch my jerking penis. I don’t think her hand made contact with my cock before I came but she did manage to hold me and direct my spasms to shoot and spill onto my shorts around my feet. “Don’t want to make a mess on the floor, do we Honey?” she said in a mocking tone.
The combination of her remark; the fact that everyone seemed to be having a laugh at my expense and discomfort; my own perceived inadequacies made me feel humiliated as never before. If things couldn’t get any worse it was to hear Helen cry out as she came for the umpteenth time and for me to realised that whilst all this had been going on all I could do was to stand there still holding the bloody microphone. I felt completely stupid and miserable.
“I did it my way.” Yeah, Gordon, my way, a pathetic loser playing by the rules.
******
I had no recollection of how the rest of the evening went given I had retreated into my emotional shell as the rest of the world went on by without any regard to me. I was reflecting on this as we sat in the departure lounge at Grantley Adams Airport as we waited for the call to be boarded for our flight home. We hadn’t really spoken about our evening very much through the day as we packed up but now with us sitting in the limbo land of nothing to do but wait it was inevitable that the topic of our last evening would be raised.
“Did you have a good time?” she asked brightly.
I looked at her and my face must have provided some kind of answer which she interpreted as being positive for she continued without pause, “It was great wasn’t it?”
I didn’t want to dwell on how I had actually felt about the way things had gone and how I had felt so shamed by it all but I grudgingly admitted that, yes, I had enjoyed myself without going into any detail. In my mind I was coming to terms, once again, that my own shortcomings coupled to Helen being satisfied by other more adequate males was something that we had long ago agreed on as being the solution to fulfilling our fantasies. Add to the equation my own perverse need to be a voyeur of her being serviced so well as I was being so completely cuckolded and, well, why wouldn’t I have had a good time? Having run those thoughts through my mind once again I responded, “Yeah, it was good wasn’t it?”
She leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek in the manner of ‘there’s a good boy’ as the tannoy blared out the call for boarding. We gathered our carry-ons and as we approached the gate to stand in line Helen said, “Oh, I had better turn off my phone.”
She rummaged in her bag and pulled it out and said, “A message; who can that be from? Oh, it’s the college.”
‘Hope ur hvg a grt time. Pls call when u gt home. Urgnt’
What the heck is that all about, we pondered as we settled down for the long flight home.
******
I woke up the following morning with a thumping headache and a raging thirst. The morning light was painful so I quickly shut my eyes and lay there for a few minutes drawing deep breaths in an attempt to orientate myself and get my thoughts in order. Eventually my stomach told me it had calmed down and I wasn’t going to embarrass myself if I moved so I opened my eyes to look at the softly snoring Helen alongside me us both half wrapped in a crumpled sheet which, when I properly focussed, I saw was liberally spotted with questionable stains. No puzzle to think where they had come from as the memory of what had gone on last night on this very bed but, looking beyond her, it was a puzzle to see a pile of banknotes sitting on Helen’s nightstand. It looked to be a tidy sum and I knew it wasn’t mine.
With my world coming back into focus I eased myself from the bed but not as carefully as I intended for the movement of the sheet was enough to disturb her. She gave me a sleepy smile and held out her arms inviting me to give her a good morning hug. I bent down to give her a kiss and was not surprised to taste cum on her lips, someone else’s cum, not mine.
“Morning, sleepy head. How are you?”
She gave a contented groan and stretched her arms above her head. The sheet slipped from her and I looked at her naked form.
“By Golly, you look a bit .... er ...untidy,” I said struggling to find the right words to describe what had been revealed. Her breasts were marked with what looked suspiciously like bites; her pussy seemed to be stretched open and was distinctly more red and puffy than I had seen before and on her stomach and legs were what could only be the dried remains of spunk, lots of spunk.
“Mmm, I’m fine,” she said as she came back to size after her stretch.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes, “What’s the time? I’m famished. Get me a cup of tea for starters, will you.” All said without pause and with no acknowledgement to my obvious puzzled expression.
I did as I was told and went into the kitchen alcove and bustled about making tea. “Do you want cereal for breakfast?”
There was no answer to my call other than the sound of her in the bathroom which explained why my question hadn’t been heard. A few minutes later she emerged still in a trance-like state but looking considerably better than before not least because she had obviously washed the stains from her body. The bite marks were still there and, I’m not sure if she was aware it was happening, as she walked toward me, hand out to take her cup of tea, cum was oozing from her pussy and beginning to dribble down her legs. She giggled when I said, “God, you look like you’ve been well used.”
She wrapped herself in a towel and we went out onto the patio to drink our tea whilst we watched the world outside wake up. When I gauged she was sufficiently awake I asked, “What’s that pile of money on your bedside?”
She was momentarily confused then said, “Oh that; that’s my wages.”
“Wages?”
“Yeah, my share.”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She smiled and said, “It’s complicated and I suppose I should be sorry that things got a bit out of hand but it was fun. It was a pity you crashed out so soon, it was just the sort of thing you would have enjoyed watching.”
I was about to say that I had seen quite a lot and that I had some fond if somewhat hazy memories but she cut me off, “Don’t interrupt and I’ll explain.”
I struggled to keep my mouth shut as she continued, “You remember last week when we went to Oistins and Dale introduced me to his cousin and we went up that alleyway and I let him fuck me whilst I gave Dale a Blowjob?”
How could I forget, it was a wonderful sight and I had had the most glorious wank as I watched from the shadows.
“Well,” she said, “afterwards I said to Dale I had felt just like a Prostitute and that he was my Pimp. What’s more I said to him that it was like a fantasy come true for I’m sure there are a lot of women who share such thoughts and would like to know what it’s like to be treated that way. He laughed at the idea but said if I wanted that he could make it happen, ‘if that’s what you want to do.’ He did ask about you and what you might say but I told him you would do as you were told.”
I was both intrigued and excited mixed with a tinge of humiliation to think I had been referred to in this way but, then again as I so often acknowledge, it’s in our ‘rules’.
“He asked me if I was really serious and I told him that I was and that it would be a really really naughty thing to do and that I knew you would get your jollies as well so we decided the BBQ party would provide a perfect opportunity but that we needed to be a little organised as despite him being well known that he reckoned once the word got around that I was for sale there would be plenty of strangers who would want to buy. I think he was as excited as I was at the idea. Anyway, knowing we couldn’t be too obvious we came up with a sort of code that would let me know what ‘services’ I was going to sell.”
She took a sip of her tea as I sat there open-mouthed with amazement at her matter-of-fact fashion in relating this but this was Helen at her best; forthright with not a hint of embarrassment.
She put her cup down and dabbed her mouth, “Anyway, he said that we would go to the dance floor and while I danced around with the girls, as we do, he would tout for customers. When he found a taker he would tell them I would give either a blowjob or a fuck and negotiate a price. Once they agreed he would then bring them to me whilst we were still dancing and they would be introduced as a friend or a cousin. If it was a friend that meant that they had paid for a blowjob; if it was a cousin then they had paid more, a lot more, and would get to fuck me.”
So that was what all the whispering and the subterfuge was all about I thought as I replayed the events in my mind of the last couple of days. My head was spinning at the thought that this had all been pre-planned; contrived and that I had been a witness to it all and that now my wife had the reputation of being a common whore. How humiliating to think that I might be now regarded with even less respect by the locals than I may have before when she embarked on her new ‘career’. Humiliating, Yes, but my groin was signalling otherwise for as she sat there looking so prim and proper with her tea cup in hand, a hand that twinkled with diamond ring I had just bought her, I could feel my cock was becoming uncomfortably restrained by my pyjama bottoms.
I struggled to find the words but say it I did, “There seems to be an awful lot of money in there; how much did you charge?”
“Oh, I have no idea. Dale did all the negotiating; I just enjoyed getting the cock; I would have done it for free ... but I didn’t tell him that. That pile of money is what he gave me when everyone left. He said it was my cut; my ‘wages’. What he had charged I haven’t a clue but it must have been worth it, don’t you think? Not bad for a night’s work and I certainly got my money’s worth,” she said with a giggle.
I looked back inside at the pile of notes and estimated there must have been the equivalent of $200 (US, not Bajan!). I was speechless but not helpless for her little explanation had fired me up so much and my cock was now straining even more against my pants. I pushed them down to relieve the tension and almost gave a cry as my stiff little nubbin poked out, dribbles of sticky juice beginning to flow from my glans.
Helen did give a cry but it was one of amusement, “Oh my gosh, whatever do you think you are doing you naughty boy?”
“You know damn fine what I’m doing,” I said with as much mock forcefulness as I could muster. “All this talk has got me so excited and the thought of you being a prostitute has taken our game to whole new level. Come on, let’s get back to bed and let me at least have a taste of what you willingly sold last night.”
My outburst caused her to laugh even more and she said, “OK, alright then, let’s go but if you think you’re going to put that stubby little thing anywhere near me then think again Buster. For one thing, I am so sore that I don’t need any more aggravation and secondly you’re so small and I am so stretched out that I doubt if I would feel anything with you sloshing around even if I did allow you to stick it in.”
I wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not and my face must have reflected my confusion.
“Aw, come on, I’m only joking,” she said. “Let’s go and have a lie down but I am serious about being sore; I don’t think I can be mucked about with down there. But you can give my pussy a kiss and a lick to make me feel better and then if you make a good job I’ll give you a blowjob in return.”
My sad face lit up and she led me back into the bedroom and we lay down. I applied myself to the task of cleaning her up in the way that we know only too well, her lying on her back and me on my knees head between her thighs lapping away and stroking my stiff little cock as I did so. She made all the appropriate noises as I probed and pushed my tongue all around her wet folds and eventually she gave an extended sigh as I bought her to a satisfactory climax. I sat back on heels, my face covered in a mixture of my saliva, her juices and goodness knows whose cum. Without asking I laid down beside her in anticipation of her reciprocating and giving me some welcome relief.
“OK, it’s a blowjob you want, right?”
I nodded my head.
“That’ll be $20 dollars up front then.”
My face must have been a picture as I realised what she was proposing.
She creased up with laughter, “Just joking,” she said as she leaned down and took me in her mouth. I lasted all of 20 seconds before I was gushing like a fountain.
******
Our holiday was coming to an end; we only had a couple of days remaining before we returned to cold, old England and we spent most of our time in the vicinity of our apartment, either on the patio or the beach below, sunbathing, reading or taking the occasional drink at the beach bar. Often when we were away from our flat sipping our drinks we would be greeted by passing locals some of whom I recognised, others not, and I was sure I could read in their expressions amongst the whispered conversations between themselves they recognised Helen as being the ‘whore’ at the weekend BBQ. I squirmed inside at the thought.
My wife was true to her word about being uncomfortable from all the sexual frenzy of the past weekend and as pathetic as I might plead with her there was no sex for me other than her ‘allowing’ me to lick her sore pussy. I was commanded to stay licking until she came to a gentle climax and she seemed to get satisfaction from not only the administrations of my tongue but also from telling me how wonderful it had been to have been fucked by real cocks; big cocks; black cocks and not by my silly little boy penis. She knew that I enjoyed being humiliated by this talk and as I stroked, spurted and dribbled my own climax I supposed we both got what we wanted.
We got a message from Dale via the bar staff that he wanted to take us out for a final night before we went home. Apparently there was to be a Karaoke evening at a Rum Shack he knew which was renowned for being a great night out. The bar girl who delivered the message had a look that suggested there might be more than a sing-along involved. Why he couldn’t have come and to deliver the invite himself I have no idea other than recognising that this off-hand manner was so typical of the Bajans. Helen was thrilled at the idea; I had misgivings but knew that my opinion was of no account.
As per his message he came by to collect us with a ‘cousin’ driving a borrowed car and we made our way towards Bridgetown. Even with my scant knowledge of the place I could tell as we passed through the bright lights that we were not going to be hitting the tourist spots and indeed we left the city behind and turned off the main road to thread our way through dark streets into what I guessed was somewhere behind the port. We turned into a non-descript Side Street and stopped outside a sorry looking building illuminated by a neon sign that suggested it might be a place that sold drinks. Dale expressed satisfaction that we had found the right place and out we tumbled to enter into a dingy square room which had a variety of benches, chairs and tables (all non-matching) arrayed around three walls; the other wall was filled by a bar. Once inside we accustomed ourselves to the gloom and saw that there we already a few couples and a bunch of blokes occupying some of the tables. To one side there was a Karaoke machine set up and a couple of ceiling mounted screens glowing presumably awaiting the first ‘orders’. It looked to be a very amateurish set-up but, what the heck, we were out for an evening of fun and certainly my expectations when the suggestion was made weren’t very high.
We found a table and settled down. Helen suggested that I might like to go and sort out some drinks for the four of us and I dutifully made my way to the bar and ordered a round of Rum Punches to get the evening going. By the time I returned Helen and Dale were already head-to-head whispering and I nervously stood to one side as they conferred about something that I was clearly not meant to hear.
Suddenly the music started and so did they, jerking apart in surprise. I put the drinks down and with hardly a glance to me they picked up and clinked glasses as in a toast. What they were saluting I couldn’t hear above the noise but I caught the accompanying winks between them.
The MC moved to a table across the room and gave the microphone to the white female sitting with, presumably, her husband and another dark fellow. She got to her feet and began to sing trying to keep up with the words on the screen above her head. I don’t remember the name of the song but I do remember she sounded awful. She obviously shared my opinion because she quickly handed over the microphone to her husband who was pushed to his feet by their black companion giving the poor chap no choice. His place was taken by his wife who snuggled up to the dreadlocked guy and the pair of them seemingly revelled in the embarrassment of the performer as they laughed as he stumbled through. His embarrassment might have been made even worse if he could have seen what I could see; his wife was openly stroking the black man’s cock through the fabric of his shorts. Then again, perhaps he could see.
“Oh dear, what have we come to,” I thought.
The number ended and another started and the hapless husband returned to his table where the wife had by now extracted a stiff black cock from the confines of her companion’s shorts. Even in the gloom I could see that the reputation of the black man was borne out as the stiff penis looked a monster. She evidently thought likewise and with us all looking on she licked her lips and bent down to begin giving some personal attention to the ebony object wrapped by her white hand. Hubby sat meekly by and turned his attention to the floor where another ‘victim’ had been given the microphone and at the noisy behest from his table was centre stage trying to follow the song that was being played. His white lady likewise had someone else to keep her company whilst he did so. I was becoming increasingly nervous that far from being a simple karaoke that this was really a setup for entertainment of another kind and, more pointedly, that I was destined to become part of it.
A few more numbers were stumbled through and with drinks being plied throughout the behaviour around the crowded room was becoming more raucous. The table which had started the alternative entertainment was rewarded with a muted cheer of approval when the white wife jerked her head back from the groin of her black friend and we saw a fountain of spunk shoot from his cock to splatter over her face. Her husband stared fixedly at the floor.
In the dark corner by the bar it was obvious that another ‘wife’ was being seriously fucked from behind as she held on to the bar counter and her dark invader had her skirt held up around her waist as he pounded rhythmically into her in time with the music. How we all smiled at that interpretation. We could see her husband was sat nursing his drink at their table across the room seemingly unconcerned.
So the evening went on. I had been given the microphone earlier but nothing too untoward occurred between Helen, Dale and his cousin whilst I was giving an uninspired rendition to some obscure song or at least not that I could see. However, that state of affairs was not to last and with Helen drinking too many Rum Cocktails, far too quickly it was no surprise to me to see her become more and more uninhibited.
Our table had attracted more of Dale’s friends to join us and once again I was dispatched to the bar to get yet another round. As I waited to be served I looked back and could see the added attraction of our table. In her drunken state she had somewhere between me leaving the table and getting to the bar managed to lose her blouse and anyone who cared to look could see her perfect tits held invitingly by her half cup bra. Sitting on one side she had Dale, on the other someone who I didn’t recognise, both of them had their shorts pulled down to their knees and needing no invite she had both their stiff cocks in hand.
I made my careful way back with the drinks keeping an eye on both the wobbling tray in my hands and on the handfuls that Helen was now stroking. Both of them had leaned back so that we could all clearly see two impressive black erections enwrapped by her two white hands. As I approached the table she smiled at me with a dreamy look in her eyes; I wasn’t convinced that she was actually seeing me as she continued to masturbate her willing subjects. Without taking my eyes off of the obscene sight I absent-mindedly handed out the drinks and was pleased to see that as she softly rubbed up and down that both of them were beginning to seep and dribble pre-cum which was now being spread by her fair hands. I stood and with my own cock straining its erection in my shorts wondered just how long they would be able to last before the inevitable conclusion.
I watched breathlessly waiting for the spurts to begin and noticed that along with her blouse that she had also lost her panties or, maybe, she had never worn any tonight in the first place. Then my view of her was interrupted by the vista of a black backside of one of the other ‘guests’ at the table who stood up and placed himself in front of her. With his own shorts down around his ankles it was obvious that he was presenting his own cock to her. She needed no further invitation and without her hands missing a beat I saw her lean forward and presumed she had taken him into her mouth. I was entranced.
My trance was broken when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and there was the MC thrusting the microphone, “Your lady wants you to sing this one,” he said with a smirk.
I tore my eyes away from the wank fest and tried to focus on the screen to see what I was supposed to be singing; it was ‘My Way’. “How appropriate,” I thought. Even in her drunken state she still hadn’t lost her sense of humour.
I really didn’t need to be looking at the words; it’s one of those songs that everybody knows and I warbled my way through giving it my best Frank Sinatra impression as I focussed on her own performance. It was very appropriate that as I got to the line, ‘.. and now the end is near,’ that I saw Dale and then the other guy both erupt as Helen’s hands had become almost a blur pumping up and down. The fellow who she was sucking at the same time gave a jerk of his buttocks and I guessed he must have cum too. He stepped away on shaky legs and another fellow took his place. I just had time to see her cum-covered face before he too obscured my view. However, he wasn’t interested in any oral attention for her grabbed her by the waist and pulled her towards him and with a shove must have buried himself to the hilt in her shaven pussy. I heard her squeal her approval as two other fellows took the place of Dale and his mate who had rolled away. They stood either side of her as she was being steadily fucked and they had their cocks out and waving them in from of her cum-covered face. She gave each of them equal attention as she wanked first one whilst she sucked on the other and then she would change over to do the same to the other one.
My song came to an end but there was no applause for everyone was concentrating on what was happening around our table or were indulging in carnal activities of their own. The room seemed to be filled with grunts, passionate moaning, cries as someone or other was climaxing. It seemed like I was in the midst of and being the spectator to a complete orgy.
Almost hyperventilating, I felt my shorts being pulled down and turned in surprise to see CherieAnn with Nyah grinning at me as I stood there with my shorts around my ankles unable to walk and with my stiff little dribbling dick pointing towards Helen and her companions. CherieAnn gestured in the same direction, “Hey Whitey, like what you’re seeing huh?”
I nodded dumbly as she pulled down her top and ******* her beautiful ebony globes. “Like these as well, do you?”
I moved to give her tits a kiss but she moved back, “Uh uh ..,” she laughed and restrained by my shorts I couldn’t follow. Nyah standing behind me gave a snigger.
“What about this,” she said lifting the short hem of her skirt to ****** her cunt. I groaned at the sight of the red gash perfectly framed with black curly pubic hairs. I almost fell as I involuntary tried to make a move in her direction but was held by Nyah’s steadying hold on my arm. Those in the room who weren’t otherwise occupied were getting great amusement as they witnessed my discomfort. My humiliation was made worse when CherieAnn left me and joined the group around Helen who was still being attended by the unknown assailant. She bent down and gave Helen a kiss and then without any hesitation straddled Dale who was sitting alongside his cock miraculously and still impressively stiff. He held her waist and she sat down and impaled herself. She wriggled and turned to see if I was watching.
Watching? Of course I was and the tableau in front of me of her being filled by Dale’s fat cock; Helen being fucked whilst sucking other cocks and having Nyah whispering and licking the side of my face was all too much. I felt myself being overwhelmed by the approaching climax. It came upon me at the same time as I felt Nyah’s hand slide down my stomach to touch my jerking penis. I don’t think her hand made contact with my cock before I came but she did manage to hold me and direct my spasms to shoot and spill onto my shorts around my feet. “Don’t want to make a mess on the floor, do we Honey?” she said in a mocking tone.
The combination of her remark; the fact that everyone seemed to be having a laugh at my expense and discomfort; my own perceived inadequacies made me feel humiliated as never before. If things couldn’t get any worse it was to hear Helen cry out as she came for the umpteenth time and for me to realised that whilst all this had been going on all I could do was to stand there still holding the bloody microphone. I felt completely stupid and miserable.
“I did it my way.” Yeah, Gordon, my way, a pathetic loser playing by the rules.
******
I had no recollection of how the rest of the evening went given I had retreated into my emotional shell as the rest of the world went on by without any regard to me. I was reflecting on this as we sat in the departure lounge at Grantley Adams Airport as we waited for the call to be boarded for our flight home. We hadn’t really spoken about our evening very much through the day as we packed up but now with us sitting in the limbo land of nothing to do but wait it was inevitable that the topic of our last evening would be raised.
“Did you have a good time?” she asked brightly.
I looked at her and my face must have provided some kind of answer which she interpreted as being positive for she continued without pause, “It was great wasn’t it?”
I didn’t want to dwell on how I had actually felt about the way things had gone and how I had felt so shamed by it all but I grudgingly admitted that, yes, I had enjoyed myself without going into any detail. In my mind I was coming to terms, once again, that my own shortcomings coupled to Helen being satisfied by other more adequate males was something that we had long ago agreed on as being the solution to fulfilling our fantasies. Add to the equation my own perverse need to be a voyeur of her being serviced so well as I was being so completely cuckolded and, well, why wouldn’t I have had a good time? Having run those thoughts through my mind once again I responded, “Yeah, it was good wasn’t it?”
She leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek in the manner of ‘there’s a good boy’ as the tannoy blared out the call for boarding. We gathered our carry-ons and as we approached the gate to stand in line Helen said, “Oh, I had better turn off my phone.”
She rummaged in her bag and pulled it out and said, “A message; who can that be from? Oh, it’s the college.”
‘Hope ur hvg a grt time. Pls call when u gt home. Urgnt’
What the heck is that all about, we pondered as we settled down for the long flight home.
******
