Izaak was not fazed with the way I talked to his wife while I was fucking her. I called her my bitch.

I ordered her, “Jerk me off with your cunt. Use that pass-around pussy the way it is supposed to be used, fucking anybody I tell you to fuck.”

He joined us on the bed, as we recovered from an intense sexual adventure. Karen whispered that we were not through.

Instead, she told her husband to reclaim her. And reclaim he did!

Izaak gave his wife a lingering kiss on the lips, and a hand went to her tit, massaging it.

He asked her, “You want it now, like last time?”

“Uh huh. I need that,” she whimpered.

He dipped his fingers into her cunt and brought them out covered with my cum and her juices as well.

The first batch went on her tits. The second, into her waiting lips. She sucked our secretions off his fingers, then he kissed her while his sticky fingers were still in her mouth.

Karen licked his fingers.

“Mmm,” Karen teased. “You like the taste of my cunt with Greg all inside it, don’t you?”

He answered, “You like it too. Are you ready to teach our guest how to fuck?”

“Yeah, daddy,” she answered, and got on all fours with Izaak behind her.

The man kneeling behind her pulled on his dick, coaxing it to its full measure. He was still able to brag, “I sent her to a special dancing class. They call it twerking, and she even does it in a dance routine for my fraternity.”

To Karen, he said, “Do it. Do it like you do in class.”

Karen started to move her ass in circles, arching her back to elevate her ass and her cunt.

She used a clear, loud voice, “You like that, baby, don’t you. Greg likes it too, I can tell by his dick getting hard.”

I was guilty as charged, watching her move her ass in impossible circles then buck like riding a horse.

She caught me looking and panted, “It ain’t a donkey I’m riding, it’s a fucking stallion!”

Her stallion pushed forward just enough to enter her. I could tell when he made contact because she flinched at the size of the marshmallow head. Karen made that ‘O’ with her lips rounding, sucking in air and breathing out.

Izaak was humming. Suddenly, I realized he had put some music on and was moving to a song I had only heard once or twice. I tried to place it and realized it was an up-tempo version of “King of Hearts”. It had a beat for dirty dancing and seducing women.

They knew the song and its theme. At every verse or line or somewhere as the song progressed, he went deeper. By the end of the song, he was balls deep again, and she grunted every time he shoved in further.

I realized, “Holy shit. They are making love to a mixtape, with me right here watching.”

Of course, a major attraction was Karen’s tits, which alternately rocked or were buried in the sheets or mauled.

Karen’s husband was tall enough to reach around and use her tits as handles, pulling her toward him, then away.

I thought, “Damn, he is a stallion, riding her like that. Fuck! He’s using her tits as reins, moving her whole body this way and that.”

This married couple were far from finished. The next tune was something like, “Wait til You See the Size of My Dick, Baby”.

This dance-and-fuck-and-humming duet lasted through several songs. My ignorance of popular music did not dissuade me from enjoying the show.

Then the set was over. When did each cum? I honestly don’t know, but they were both satisfied.

I had to yield some room to the man, because (without warning) he rolled off Karen and crashed on my side.

She followed him and lay beside him and his glistening member. Izaak’s long pole had stirred something inside her that motivated her to talk to him.

She pulled on his tit with her lips and asked me, “You like?”

I nodded and pushed the vulgarities with a dare, “Yes. A good whore cleans her john. Is that next?”

Karen was on the far side of the bed, with Izaak in the middle. She was supporting her head with her left arm.

Izaak teased her, telling her, “You have to be a really good whore, get all our juices off my hairy balls, lap up what’s left. If that gets your john stiff again, the next round will be on the house.”

She lowered her voice and it made her sound insistent, “I want to be your total whore tonight, in front of this stranger. That would be hot.”

She got aggressive. I doubt the punches and tickles and jabs were meant to hurt, but Izaak gave in and let her hold his dong.

She started to jerk him off, asking “You like this? You used to like it before we were married.”

He remembered their first time, “Oh yeah, but you tried to pull away from me before you could suck it. What happened then, my whore with two fuck-holes I’d get that afternoon?”

Karen looked embarrassed at that question, thinking Izaak had said too much.

“Too bad, baby. Don’t pull away now. You got yourself into this. Tell Mr. Greg what I did to you.”

“Greg,” she recalled, “I knew Izaak was going to have sex with me sometime soon, but neither of us could wait any longer.”

To Izaak, “You made me want it. You made me want to suck you off. I didn’t care how big you were. I was determined to get that whole thing down my throat.”

To me, she admitted, “I had never even touched a dick before. It was fascinating to hold it, look at the veins and study his architecture. I squeezed it and it grew in my hand. He asked me to kiss the head.”

Izaak continued, “She bent down and put the crown in her mouth and I lunged forward. Like a trooper, she held on.”

Izaak had been rigid for a long time, and all three of us knew he needed more relief.

Karen bent down and started with her mouth on his whole groin. She lapped up the moisture, licked his balls and systematically made him presentable for her pussy.

I have to explain the logistics of position. I occupied my third of the king-size bed. Izaak was now in the middle. Karen was on his side, perpendicular to his body.

She looked at me and said, “Izaak and I have decided on a present for you.”

With that, she swung her body around so that they were in a sixty-nine with Izaak on the bottom. She lowered her pussy so that Izaak could have a taste when he lifted his head. Karen could easily reach his long pole when she wished.

Yes, I knew sixty-nining was satisfying to each other, even bringing both partners to a mutual orgasm was easy.

“Y’all look good, real good!” I complimented the couple, as both were enjoying that special way of finishing.

Karen turned her head to me and said, “We’re not finished. Neither are you. Take me. Take your present. Fuck me right now. Izaak wants to see your dick in my pussy, up close.”

Izaak said, “Get behind her. Doggie is her favorite."

I hesitated, knowing my dick would be very close to Izaak’s face.

They both yelled, almost in panic mode, “Do it. Do it!”

So I got behind Karen, straddled her husband and put my dick in Karen’s waiting hole. I knew right away that he had shot at least one load--maybe two--into her while they were ‘dancing to the music’.

She was slick, her pussy reddened with passion. I touched her twat with two fingers: I felt the moist heat, so I put two fingers in. Her cunt was tight and made welcoming moves on my slick fingers.

She leaned back into me with an “Ooohh. Nice. Nice and slow. This is not my first fuck of the day.”

“Not your last, either,” said Izaak, still in the game.

“What a comment from the guy on the bottom of this love triangle,” I thought.

I did take my time. Her pussy and my dick had quite a conversation. I was able to move around, up and down, deep then shallow. I was in charge. Her pussy did what my grip on her ass cheeks told it to do.

Having never paid for pussy before, I confess ignorance of exactly what special skills a prostitute has. I learned that a woman can sense what a man wants and how to accommodate him. If true, I fucked my first whore and first prostitute.

Knowing her penchant for dirty talk, with each thrust I said, “What a fuck-whore you are!”

Where did my dick find so much more come? My climax was all on my own. I figured that if she wanted to fuck like a whore, I would satisfy my own body and let her find her spot on her own.

Finally, Karen had had enough. Izaak must have been pulling on her cunt lips because she bottomed out on him, while still fucking me.

She found her spot, or Izaak found it for her. Karen’s scream was loud, long, intense, filled with a string of profanities; I was surprised such a cultured woman would know those words, much less utter them.

I felt Izaak tense up and Karen respond. Then I heard the familiar ‘pop’ of her mouth coming off her husband’s crown.

I pulled out, got off the bed. I saw how much cum was pooling on Izaak’s belly and how much was drooling from Karen’s chin.

Later on, replaying the events in my head, I decided to never again denigrate the phrase ‘sloppy seconds’. This ‘second’ was hot, juicy, slippery, but not ‘sloppy’ at all.

I thanked them, saying, “This has been a marvelous evening. Karen, you took me places I’ve never been before. Izaak, you are a lucky man to have such a fine lady. You two are quite a pair.”

I kissed her and left the room. I gently closed their door behind me.

I found my clothes just where wife Karen had folded them. While dressing, I looked at the fifty-five-inch screen above the couch.

I watched Izaak and Karen live, in person. They were playfully wrestling, hugging, kissing. I realized they had the whole thing on tape.

I said aloud, though I knew they couldn’t hear me, “Damn, Greg! Are you a voyeur? What a celebration this married couple are having.”

It dawned on me, “Their sexuality is a blend of their culture, the family’s conservative values and working toward financial security. Their special 'partner sex' is laced with the touch of kink that fits them both.”

One piece to their puzzle, I figured out for myself, about the fuck-licking we did. Neither had qualms about the sixty-nine and Karen being fucked at the same time. By seeing how they acted after I was left, I knew Izaak is as straight as they come.

Karen called me a few days later. She thanked me and we both knew this was going to be a one-off, discrete encounter.

She admitted, “I was uncomfortable at the company table and welcomed your interruption. Izaak had insisted on going with me to the conference, so I acquiesced. He claimed a headache and excused himself. Immediately, the two more senior, nosy ladies left as well.

"I reminded my husband of our deal before we left home, My price for him tagging along was, if an eligible gentleman were interested, I had carte blanche to pursue him.”

Just before we hung up, she confided, “You aren’t the first, nor the last, but I tell Izaak everything.”

I understood Karen’s situation. I would have to find another gamer, on another Thursday night.