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The Bet, Ch 5 - Used As Furniture

"Maria is used as furniture, then used as cum dumpster."

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Author's Notes

"You can see the photos which inspired this mad tale by checking Bramley's work. This story is based upon a photo series, “The Bet”, by Italian photographer, Andrea James Bramley, who started a photo series under this same name at https://bramleyappletheforbiddenfruit.blogspot.com. I write this with the permission of both he and the model featured in “The Bet”, and with his collaboration. He especially helps with some of the Italian phrasing, which I don’t speak. I present to you this tale of a bet gone wrong. You will also find links to his other photographic works. Please enjoy “The Bet”. One of the characters in this story is taking photographs to send to Maria’s husband. When Matteo sends them, you can see the photos he sent by checking #BramleyApple’s work. You can see links to his other works when you check it out. This chapter contains a scene of four men fucking one woman, including a facial."

I woke up Saturday morning with Marco’s hard erection poking at me. He himself wasn’t awake yet, just his cock. Nevertheless, things needed to be done, so I should get busy. I required more practice if I expected to take Luca in my mouth, and since Marco’s cock was available and ready, I’d practice on him. I wondered if I could get all of him down without lying on the bed with my head over the edge. He wasn’t as big as Luca.

I began by sucking just the top three inches of his cock into my mouth, warming up. It only took a dozen seconds of my sucking, before Marco himself woke up with a groan. 

“Buongiorno, Maria. Do you wake your husband up this way every morning?”

I paused what I was doing long enough to answer. “No, Marco. I’m no more anxious to suck cock than any other woman in the morning, but if I’m to suck Luca this weekend, I need to practice, or I won’t be able to take all of him in my mouth. Your cock was awake before you were, so I took advantage. Be a good boy and try not to talk so I can practice.”

I resumed practicing, Marco moaning some more. He lay still, his arms spread, letting me do my work. I slowly started to work my mouth lower over his stiff prick, going further and further each time I made the attempt. Soon, he was at the back of my throat and I had to start swallowing to avoid gagging on the head. I got him maybe three centimeters deep, but I had to stop. His cock had an upward bend to it and it wasn’t going to go down sideways.

I pulled off his cock, breathing hard. “Your cock is bent the wrong way to fit down my throat,” I gasped. “It’s like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. It’s not going to go down this way. I need to lie on the edge of the bed again.”

“Nonsense,” Marco said. “That is not the only way to get my cock aligned with your mouth. Put your cunt over my face.” 

He lay flat on the bed, his prick pointing up towards his head. I climbed over him and lowered my pussy towards his waiting mouth. 

He kissed my folds before saying, “Now my cock should follow the curvature of your mouth, and I’ll get to taste your delicious pussy for breakfast.”

With that, his tongue invaded me, dipping deep into my core, quickly melting me. His hands lay upon my bottom, stroking it. I looked at the one-eyed monster in front of my face. I believed it would fit the curvature of my throat now, and I had to admit having Marco dine on me for breakfast was enjoyable for me as well. I fit him into my mouth and easily took him as deep as I’d done before, no longer fighting the curvature. It reached the point where I had to swallow, and I did, and he slipped deeper, swallowed again and he was deeper still. Not quite there, but I needed to take a breath, so slurped my way up his stalk, twirling my tongue around the head as I grabbed several deep breaths. 

Feeling I might get him all the way down this time, I slid down his moistened shaft swallowing quickly when he reached to back of my throat and felt him go deeper and deeper until my lips were buried in the hairs curling around the base of his cock. I could feel him filling my throat, so deep I couldn’t breathe, but having taken several long breaths, could stay there momentarily, feeling the blood pulsing in his shaft, his own mouth dancing over my pussy.

Needing air again, I leaned back, letting his cock slide over my tongue, a trail of my saliva rolling down his staff and onto his sack. 

“I knew you could do it,” Marco said, moaning. 

Yes, yes I could. I grabbed several more breaths, then glided down his shaft; the process becoming easier and easier each time, his cock wet and slick. While his cock was invading my throat, my fingers started playing with his wrinkled pouch, his balls full after a night of rest. Marco was going to make me cum. Not quite as skilled as Matteo or Giovanni, he was certainly proficient enough to make me squirm on his tongue. Could I make him orgasm as quickly as he would me?

I came up for air, panting hard, both from holding my breath and what he was doing to me. There had to be an easier way. I was becoming accustomed to him sliding into my throat, the swallowing trick becoming easier and easier with each repetition. I tried relaxing it, becoming a long tube for him to fill, sliding down with a breath, swallowing, slipping back up, using my tongue to swirl about the sensitive crown, then back down with more air. Soon I was moving up and down his cock as if I had no gag reflex, nothing to impede his prick from the depths of my throat. 

Sucking him as I was, I had no time to swallow, to take care of the saliva build-up in my mouth. Drool was running down his cock, pooling around the base of his shaft, dripping onto his hairy sack. My fingers were becoming wet with it. Marco was breathing hard, finding it more difficult to concentrate on my cunt, but my orgasm was building anyway. 

His cock started to twitch, his balls drawing up and I knew his release was near. So did Marco. He sucked hungrily on my clit, wanting me to join him. I climaxed, my cunt contracting. I grabbed a big breath and locked my lips onto the base of his shaft, sucking frantically. Marco grunted, his cock swelled, filling my throat even more, then started pulsing, jets of cum spurting so far down, I couldn’t taste it, so deep was he. His cock head throbbed with each pulse, almost a mirror image to my own waves of pleasure. I had to take a breath, and rose up, finally tasting his cum as he continued to squeeze it from his balls. I sucked the tip until he stopped throbbing.

“Keep sucking,” Marco said. “I want to fuck you again.”

I let his cock slip from my mouth, sucked dry. 

“You may want to reconsider, Marco, unless you’re confident you can get an erection all day long. I still have to fulfill your fantasy. You also wish to participate in the fantasies of others and I have some other ideas along the lines of the erotic dice. You don’t want to limit yourself to the morning's activities. Get up and I’ll make espresso and put out pastries for breakfast. I have some cleaning to do as well.”

“You’re right. We have all day to play some more,” Marco said. “I’ll have multiple opportunities to fuck you, just as we did last night.”

“I imagine you’re correct.”

I was beginning to accept what was happening this weekend. My husband had made this stupid bet. I might as well enjoy it. All of the men were more than adequate lovers and I’d orgasmed frequently in just the few hours since we started. I could imagine I might cum many more times before Monday morning. Pietro would find a well-fucked wife when he was allowed to return. I wondered what he was feeling now, and more importantly, how he’d feel when he finally saw me again on Monday.

I took the time to take a quick shower and brush my teeth. While Marco’s sperm wasn’t bad, it wasn’t the taste I wanted in my mouth with coffee. 

Ready to face the new day, I went into the kitchen. Matteo had already returned. He was sitting in the kitchen smoking a cigarette.

“You should give up that filthy habit,” I said, “your wife would enjoy kissing you more. I’m sure it’s like kissing an ashtray now.”

“She’s never complained.”  

I started the espresso machine, setting out an assortment of pastries for my guests.

“Have you ever offered her the choice,” I said. “Smoking probably stunted your growth, and it might do the same to your own kids. It’s not healthy for them.”

He stubbed out the cigarette, not speaking.

“Did your wife say anything about you coming home with my cum on your cock?”

“You think I’d be foolish enough to climb into her bed without washing myself first?”

“I don’t know how foolish you would be, Matteo. I don’t understand why you’re here in the first place. You have a wonderful wife, two beautiful children, yet you’re here, fucking another man’s wife. I’m not sure it speaks much to either your wisdom or your intelligence. I wonder the same about Marco. Sure, his wife is big now with child. It’s to be expected when you fill her belly with your children. The other two, I understand somewhat. They’re both single, have nothing waiting for them at home. Luca would fuck a snake, he’s so indiscriminate. Why risk your marriage for a weekend of games with another woman?”

I poured us both a cup of espresso, set the plate of pastries before him and sat down beside him, sipping.

“Because you’re the most beautiful woman in town, and I’d kill for a chance to fuck you. I don’t think males were intended to be monogamous creatures. It is in our nature to fuck as many women as we can, spread our seed far and wide to ensure our DNA is well propagated.”

“Yet you married anyway,” I pointed out.

The other three joined us at that point, yawning, stretching, scratching themselves. I got up as they sat down, pouring them each cups. I served them their espresso, and like yesterday, they fondled and stroked my body as I did, quickly arousing me. Luca shoved a couple of fingers in my figa, quickly discovering my weakness, my moistness as I waited upon them naked.

“Marriage is to create a condition whereby your children can safely be raised to adulthood,” Matteo continued the earlier thread of our conversation, “to the age where they’re able to reproduce and thereby further spread your genetic material. It’s to protect your continuation through your genes down to future generations. All but the most basic of creatures try to ensure the safety of their progeny. The ones who don’t, usually have so many children, some must survive to adulthood.”

“Do you feel the same? Marco. Is that why you’re not home with your wife? The opportunity to spread your DNA? Marriage is only to protect your genetic heritage.”

“Partly,” Marco said. “Marriage has a twofold purpose. To protect your young, and to protect your woman from the predations of others, to ensure your woman carries your own children and not someone else’s who’s slipped in behind your back and fertilized her eggs. Marriage is a construct of society and the church to keep society from breaking down due to anarchy. Everyone fucking everyone else with no limits. No one knowing whose child they’re carrying or caring for.”

“So you don’t believe in love?” I asked.

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“I believe in love. I love my wife more than I love other women, and I married her to ensure she would carry my children,” Marco said. 

“Do you know for sure it’s your child she’s carrying, Marco? Perhaps she found someone like you and Matteo, willing to fertilize any egg to pass on their DNA. Isn’t it what you’re doing to Pietro? Taking advantage of his stupidity to fuck his wife, spread more of your seed?”

“As much as it’s possible for any man to know for sure, I suspect the child is mine,” Marco replied. “You, on the other hand; Pietro’s loss is our gain. He’s been showing you off, passing around pictures of you. It’s almost as if he was begging other men to fuck you, like he knew he couldn’t handle you himself.”

“What about you, Giovanni? What is your take on this discussion?”

“Me.” He shrugged. “I like to fuck. I like to fuck beautiful women, and you’re the most beautiful woman I know. Pietro is a braggart and blowhard. He needed to be taken down a peg. If he’s stupid enough to risk his wife in a crazy bet and I can both take him down a notch and fuck the most beautiful woman I know, it’s a no-brainer. If you were my wife, I’d keep you on a leash and never let you out of my sight. Pietro should never have shown you off the way he did. He’s an idiot, as emphasized by the fact you’re fucking all four of us now. I don’t care if my genetic material gets passed to future generations. I’ll be dead, but while I was alive, I got to fuck you.”

“I’m with Giovanni,” Luca said. “It gave me a chance to fuck you. It’s all I care about.”

“I’d almost say that was sweet, Luca, but you’d fuck a knothole. You have no discrimination,” I said.

“Sure, I’d fuck a knothole, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as fucking you.”

I had to laugh, he was so impossibly truthful.

“We left a mess last night,” I said. “I need to clean up some. Watch some TV or do something to keep yourselves occupied for a half-hour while I take care of some things.”

“Should we watch the big TV in his entertainment room?” Luca asked. 

“If you wish, but we left no mess in there, so if you wish to watch me clean house naked, I suggest the smaller TV where we were last night.”

The four men were agreeable as there were no sports on this early on Saturday morning. They poured additional cups of espresso and took the plate of pastries with them. While they sat down with the TV on, flicking from channel to channel looking for something to watch, I started cleaning. First, I took the cushion covers off the cushions from the table last night and threw them in the washing machine. After I’d been fucked by all four of them, with cum dripping from me, they were particularly soiled. I also thoroughly wiped and sanitized the table top. Who knew what bodily fluids had leaked from me. I took out the vacuum and cleaned around the table, then moved to the couch where the others were watching the small tv. I vacuumed up the crumbs they’d dropped from the pastries. 

While doing so, the men played with me, touching, stroking, always keeping me aroused for them. I noticed we might have spilled a little wine on the area rug in front of the couch while I’d served them wine last night. Matteo and Giovanni moved the coffee table, giving me room to scrub the small stain. I got some soda water and was scrubbing and brushing the wine spot with the water down on my hands and knees in front of them. The table being gone, Marco put his feet on me and set the tv remote on my back, treating me like a piece of furniture.

Giovanni said, “I’ve got an idea for the next thing for Maria to do. Matteo, get your camera.”

I sat up on my knees, my bottom sitting on my feet, wondering what he was talking about. Matteo returned with the camera.

“Maria can be our footstool and table while we watch tv,” Giovanni said. “Take some pictures, Matteo.”

“Wait,” I said. “I need to soak this spot in some cold water before it sets permanently. Let me soak it in the tub, and move the other carpet over here so I don’t have to kneel on the marble floors.”

It didn’t take long to put the carpet in the tub and start soaking it in cold water. I returned to the room and got down on my hands and knees in front of the couch. The posed me, first parallel to the couch so more of me was visible, then facing the TV so primarily my backside was visible, my pussy and asshole facing the men. The TV remote balanced on my bottom. Matteo took several pictures, showing them to us afterward. 

He prepared them to send to Pietro. I added another note to the collection. ‘You treated me like a whore in front of them. They treat me no better than a piece of furniture, a place to rest their feet and keep the tv remote. Except I don’t think they can fuck a piece of furniture, but I’m sure they’re going to fuck me.’ I sent them.

He hadn’t been able to see me getting fucked by Marco in our bedroom. No cameras there. Would he tune in to watch now?

For the next fifteen or twenty minutes, I served as footstool and table, mostly with my back to them so they could see my wet pussy winking at them. The soon grew tired of merely using me as a footrest. My cunt became the main attraction, their fingers stroking me, even penetrating me. I was soon panting at their fondling of my most intimate parts.

“Fuck this,” Matteo said, “you’ve all fucked her more recently than I have.” He unleashed his cock from his pants and plunged into me. He slid in easily after they’d played with me, I was so wet.

“If you’re going to fuck her,” Luca said, “turn her sideways so you don’t block the tv and we can see what you’re doing.” 

He pulled out of me only long enough to move me ninety degrees and slightly to the side so he would not block their view of the show, some nature thing. He started fucking me right in front of them, his meaty cock sliding back and forth in my cunt. I felt even more on display for them as he fucked me today than last night and I was excited I would soon be cumming for these men, a nature show. The mating of two beasts. I climaxed, bowing my back and whimpering, thrusting back against Matteo, wanting him to fill me with his cock. I was close to another when he groaned and flooded my pussy with his seed. I was disappointed I’d not climaxed again before he did. 

I needn’t have worried, Giovanni was right behind him, jump-starting me where Matteo had left off. His shaft squelched in my pussy, churning my cunt and it’s contents to butter. I quickly orgasmed again, so close when he started, crying out his name. Was Pietro watching, did he hear me saying another man’s name as I was fucked. Before Giovanni finished, I climaxed again, my abdomen rippling as the waves of pleasure swept through me. My nipples ached, so hard, stony points.

Giovanni pulled out of me. I looked at Luca. “Are you going to fuck me next?” I asked.

“If I do, Marco won’t be able to feel your cunt on his cock, I’ll have stretched you so.” 

So Marco plunged into me next, a warm stew of cum, mine and theirs. He pinched my aching nipples and I climaxed again, bucking against him. Marco had cum once today already and had stamina to spare. Over and over he thrust deep inside me, stirring my pot. I shuddered through another orgasm, lowering my head to the floor, barely able to keep on my knees. 

“Fuck me,” I cried. “Fuck me, Marco.” 

If he hadn’t heard me calling for Giovanni, Pietro surely heard me call out Marco’s name. I was twice as loud. Marco finally finished in me, adding his seed to the others. Marco pulled out, a trail of cum running down my leg. I would have to clean this carpet as well.

Now Luca took his place behind me, his pants opened and his cock sticking out like a club. There was no concern over being wet enough to take him. I was dripping wet. He pushed inside, splitting me apart, taking me, owning me as he’d done so many others. I howled. 

“You’re so big, Luca. You’re rearranging my internal organs.”

That’s the way it felt to me. Everything being pushed aside so he could occupy space in my pussy. How was I going to take his cock down my throat? I didn’t care what tricks I knew. He was so fucking large. My cunt felt stretched. Childbirth in reverse, instead of a head coming out, his head was going in. It felt good though. God, it felt good. I couldn’t even be sure he was all the way in. 

“Fuck me,” I whimpered, too hoarse to cry as loudly as before. “Fuck me hard, Luca.”

He did as I asked him. Luca fucked me, hard, like a machine, in, out, in, out. A guided missile aimed straight for my core. My husband would end up regretting he’d ever let the genie out of the bottle, because the genie was fucking me now. Squish, squish, sloppy sex, the fourth one to penetrate me in the space of less than an hour. Slap, slap, slap, his big balls slapping against my clit. 

I climaxed, not climaxed, no, but CLIMAXED, screaming, incoherent. I looked up. The other three had left the couch, the tv forgotten. I was the show now. They stood around me, watching, stroking their reviving snakes. Naked Maria, hands and knees on the floor, plowed by the king of cocks. Finally knowing why confession booths were filled with the quiet whispers of women who’d succumbed to Luca. A mystery to me why the town wasn’t filled with tiny Luca’s in miniature. 

Would I join the hordes of women sneaking surreptitiously into his house, hoping his hose would quench the fires burning in my cunt; fires he’d ignited in the first place? I orgasmed again, with a capital O. Mewling, whimpering, moaning, burning up, shuddering, quakes shattering me, tearing me down, crumbling my world, piece by piece. He bludgeoned me with his prick. I couldn’t stop cumming, wave after wave of pleasure. His cock expanded in me, growing even larger and he grunted, a man’s grunt and exploded in my pussy. Thick jets of his cum flooding me. 

I felt drops falling on my back, looked up and to the left, saw Matteo shooting his cum on me. Felt more dripping on my hair, looked forward and got hit in the face by a glob of Giovanni’s seed, dripping down my face. More wetness on my back, aware Marco was adding his cum. Knowing I’d graduated from footstool and table to cum dumpster. They emptied themselves on me, the show complete. Luca pulled out of me, the sense of fullness, completion, gone; leaving only emptiness filled with sperm, dripping out of me like a leaky faucet. 

I looked up at a hidden camera, covered in cum, Giovanni’s thick gruel sliding down my cheek. This is what you made me, Pietro. I hope you’re happy. What did Pietro see? His wife or a newly created fuck toy?

******

 

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Written by Thors_Fist
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