Save the Last Dance

The second was him going to a lot of careful effort to tie her legs into something she'd heard him call a "frog-tie" when he was having Josh help him. Knees tightly bent, each leg was tied ankle to thigh. He'd done more than just wrap each leg up with a length of rope — there were also individual loops around both ankles and thighs as well as the bigger loops around both. The end result was complicated, made movement difficult, and made standing-up or walking impossible.

She and Grant had dabbled with bondage, although they had not gone past the fuzzy-handcuffs and mostly-decorative gag stage. She'd started out a little uneasy at being tied up so extensively by a stranger, but once Phil had gotten done with her legs, she found the vulnerability surprisingly exciting.

Tiffany's dual feelings of apprehension and excitement grew as Phil put her arms behind her back, and started wrapping her forearms with rope to tie them together. He was pulling them uncomfortably far, and while she liked that it made her tits stick out quite nicely — not that they needed help — it did hurt.

She yelled, "That's too tight." Due to the ball-gag it came out more like "ats oooh ite". She knew that even if the words were unintelligible, they would know what she was trying to say.

"I think she said her gag's too loose," mocked Adam. "We can almost understand her."

Josh said, "I think you're right." He stood, and fiddled with the buckle for the ball-gag, tightening it a notch, making the already taut leather straps cut even more sharply into the corners of her mouth, and pulling more of the ball behind her teeth.

That action, small in and of itself, caused some of the thoughts and feelings she'd been having tonight to suddenly crystalize.

While the bondage that Grant had put her in had been fun, it hadn't been something either of them felt the need to make a big part of their sex life. However, tonight she'd been extremely excited by the rough treatment and the bondage. She was actually feeling a little guilty about how much more exciting it felt when Phil was tying her up.

Tightening her gag, that minor act of cruelty, had made her realize what was different. These guys didn't care. They didn't care if she enjoyed it, they didn't care if she had her orgasm. They didn't care how much something hurt. Grant always cared.

If she'd yelled into a ball-gag like that with Grant, he'd have taken it out to find out what was distressing her, not made it even tighter. That wasn't a criticism of Grant, or something Tiffany considered a shortcoming. Indeed, if Grant could have been as thoughtless and casually cruel to her as these guys had been, she wouldn't be in love with him. Grant loved her.

Which these guys unquestionably did not, she thought, as Phil pulled her arms back even further, then resumed binding them that way.

Phil was apparently much more talkative when it was his turn to fuck her. He wasn't a smooth charmer like Josh, but at least he was using more than three-word sentences.

"Ok, little tart. Your turn to be on top," he said, his voice deep and quiet.

Does that make me a top-tart?

Once again, she had to prevent herself from giggling. Phil might think she wasn't taking him seriously, and when a girl is tied up like Tiffany was, that seemed like a bad idea. She didn't want him to decide that she needed tighter knots, or even more rope.

Phil continued with, what seemed to be for him, a lengthy speech. "And my turn to enjoy that pussy."

He started unbuttoning his shirt, and she watched him undress, naturally being curious about the body that she expected to be under, and in, her shortly. He took his shirt off and placed it on one of the surplus chairs. His shoulders looked even broader without a shirt, and his arms and barrel-like torso were well muscled, though he had a small beer-belly. He didn't look like a guy who worked out in a fancy gym, he looked more like a guy whose strength came from working hard — even the beer-belly looked solid. Construction worker?

When he dropped his pants, she let out an involuntary squeal. His cock, already hard, made Adam's look small. Not in length, Adam still won there by a big margin as Phil's cock looked to be an average five inches or so, if that. Instead of competing on length, Phil's cock was incredibly thick — at least two inches, and probably more. This is going to be like being fucked with a beer can.

"Don't break her Phil, some of us want a second shot," said Josh jokingly. At least she hoped he was joking. Surely Phil would stop if she couldn't take that thing. Wouldn't he?

She knew it had been kind of crazy to agree to let strangers use and abuse her without knowing exactly how far they might go.

Even so, she hadn't wanted to spend who knows how long negotiating what they could and couldn't do down to the finest detail. It would have made things less exciting — she liked not knowing what was in store for her. And, it's possible that being so worked up at that point, and excited by the thought of an actual gang-bang, might have clouded her judgement a little.

Maybe at least agreeing on a safe-word might have been a good idea.

She ran the tip of her tongue across the smooth rubber of the ball-gag, and realized that it might be a little late to discuss one.

Phil laid down on the bed next to Tiffany, his thick cock sticking straight up, and he motioned her towards him.

Not like I can run away, can I? She knelt there, staring at the cock that waited for her.

"I told you the bitch wouldn't do it," crowed Adam. "She's done, sorry Phil."

"Oh, she'll do it," replied Josh, chuckling. To Tiffany, he said, "C'mon, you don't want Phil be all frustrated, do you?"

That might be better than getting my pussy stretched out by that piece of meat. Yet despite her trepidation, there was a part of her that also wanted to do it. Slut pride? Not having Adam be right about her would also be a bonus. She edged closer to Phil, although due to the way her legs were bound, she was unable to mount him.

Enrique said, "Let's give her a hand."

He and Josh came over to the bed, and between the two of them, and Phil, they manhandled her on to Phil, straddling his thighs.

She tried to raise up, but with her legs tied like that, she had nowhere near the freedom that she normally would have. Phil reached up, put two massive hands on her tits, and she whined as he helped out by lifting her by them. She still had at least some of her weight on her knees as he positioned her above his cock. Him holding her up by her tits was only thing keeping her from being impaled.

He wiggled his hips to work the head of his cock between her lips. Good thing dicks are a little bit pointy. She took a deep breath — not easy with a ball-gag — to prepare for what came next.

Phil began to let her down, and the head of his cock entered her. With each increment that she sunk, she felt her pussy being stretched wider and wider around the thick invader. Her brain endeavored to process how good the lessening strain on her tits felt, versus the increasing pain from her pussy.

Finally, she felt her crotch come to rest against his. He let go of her tits, she looked down at the marks his strong fingers had left on them, slowly beginning to fade. No longer distracted by his grip on her breasts, she was free to focus on her pussy. She felt herself relaxing, the pain first becoming discomfort, then just an incredible feeling of fullness.

He gave her a little more time to adjust to being so full, teasing and gently twisting her nipples as he waited. Tiffany shifted her hips forward and backwards, exploring how it felt. Phil took that as a sign she was ready, or maybe her soft wet pussy moving around his cock made him need to start fucking her. Either way, that's what he did.

His strong hands took a good grip on her breasts, and he used them to lift her up a few inches, and then lower her back down. She moaned, and mumbled, "God, that feels good" into her ball-gag. He repeated the cycle, slowly and deliberately, a few more times, then he sped up a little, settling into a steady rhythm that had her gasping each time her pussy enveloped his cock as he lowered her.

She'd taken dildos that big, and other cocks, for example Adam's, had gone much deeper, but being stretched this wide by an actual warm, moving dick was a new sensation that she was enjoying much more than she'd expected.

Phil was clearly enjoying it as well. He sped up, and began lifting her higher and higher, making Tiffany scream into the ball-gag.

Fuck, it feels like he's trying to pull them off.

He used her breasts as handles, pulling them up until her back was arched, and her head thrown back. Then he reversed, pulling her down onto him just as hard. She bent forward, his cock deep in her, thick fingers digging into her breasts so tightly that she was afraid she'd have hand-shaped bruises tomorrow.

This went on. Her breasts pulled up towards the ceiling and then down towards the bed, her body being tossed backwards and forwards like a rag-doll, until her moans and gasps had her hyperventilating. The pain in her breasts seemed to almost become pleasure, and the room started to spin. She felt lightheaded, like she'd had way too much to drink. She heard the artificial "click" as Josh used her phone to capture a photo of Phil abusing her breasts as she rode him.

From a distance, she heard a voice say, "Holy hell, Phil, you're gonna fuck that bitch unconscious." It took her a few seconds to realize that it was Adam, and that he was talking about her.

Phil grunted, "About done," and he was. His hands tightened on her breasts, and she would have screamed if she could, not sure if she felt it as pain or pleasure, but she didn't have the strength. She felt him come, and in her oxygen-deprived state she was sure that he was pumping gallons of his spunk up into her like a fountain.

He maintained his grip on her breasts, although now with a fraction of the tightness, holding her just enough to keep her from falling forward. Josh quickly unbuckled the ball-gag, and she took a few deep breaths, trying to do it slowly. Her light-headedness faded, and the guys lifted her off of Phil by her legs, then laid her down on the bed.

Her first coherent thought was that she was surprisingly sweaty for having done nothing beyond being tossed around like a toy. Her second was that despite the lingering aching in her breasts, that had been an absolutely amazing experience, and she was surprised she hadn't had an orgasm. Or did I? Things were pretty hazy there at the end.

Phil had vanished, but the other guys seemed qualified at least to un-tie her. Six hands made quick work of Phil's rope handiwork, and she sprawled back on the bed, letting her arms and legs un-cramp. She thought about how overfull her pussy had felt when he first entered her, and she was surprised at how empty it felt now.

Adam and Enrique went off the join Phil, but Josh stuck around, sitting down on the bed next to her. She waited for him to slap her breast, or say something rude. Maybe take another compromising photo with her phone.

To her surprise, all he did was say, "Just checking in. How are you doing? We wearing you out?"

His hand came towards her, and again she expected him to touch or pinch her breast, but instead he rubbed her arm, a gesture more affectionate than sexual. Charming Josh was back, and Tiffany wondered which personality was real — the smooth flirt, or the rude guy that had used her mouth so roughly. Both? Neither?

"No," she said, "not at all. I'm just getting started. I said I was up for a gang-bang, and I meant it."

"Really?" he said, sounding surprised. And maybe a little pleased?

"Then we should get you more guys," he said, grinning. His tone was light, like he was joking, although there was something else in it. A suggestion? An order?

To her surprise, Tiffany heard herself say, "More guys? Yeah, I could do this all night."

What the fuck, mouth? Do you not consult with my brain anymore at all? Have you and my pussy staged a coup?

Without missing a beat, Josh said, "Ok, let's get you more guys." He looked at the door to the en-suite bathroom. "Might be a bit, so if you want to take a quick shower. Drink some water. You should have time."

He stood up, pulled out her phone, and snapped another photo of her laying there naked. She'd have been pretty upset if he was doing that with his phone, with the photos going who knows where. Since he was using her phone though, she was merely curious. "What's with the photos?"

He smiled. "Just want you to have some souvenirs from tonight." With a laugh, he added, "Or maybe you can show hubby what a good time you had on your trip to San Diego."

He may have been teasing her, but that's one-hundred percent what she was planning to do. Grant would love those photos. If it wouldn't have been out of character, she'd have asked Josh to take even more.

Josh left the room, and she thought that he could have looked at least a tiny bit surprised that she'd agreed to an even bigger gang-bang.

Wait — those extra chairs! She laughed. Is it that obvious I'm such a slut?

The Invitation

When Grant had received the text from Tiff, he had instantly understood what "additional people that want to talk with me" meant, although he had read it three times before he'd really believed it. To his amazement, his wife had actually wound up in a gang-bang, something she'd dreamed of doing even before she'd actually started having sex with other men.

On a "normal" night like this, his anticipation was almost painful. Tonight, however, it had become excruciating! Yet, paradoxically, the longer she was up there, the more exciting it was. Her relating her experiences was always a huge turn-on for them both, and he could hardly wait to hear the details of just how she was fucked by multiple guys.

Why did he enjoy all this so much? He didn't know.

He just knew what he liked. And he liked fantasizing abut other guys fucking his wife, he liked it actually happening, and he liked hearing about it.

Grant also knew what he didn't like, and that was the whole "cuckold" scene. Nothing against the couples that were into it, but personally, neither he nor Tiff got off on him as the humiliated husband. One reason he had never joined in with Tiff and another guy was that he wanted to avoid any appearance of that dynamic.

His pondering was interrupted by him seeing Josh, the guy that had picked up Tiff, entering the bar from the hotel lobby. Why is he back down here? Where's Tiff? Still upstairs with the other members of the gang-bang, he assumed.

Grant watched as Josh sat down at the bar, ordered a drink, and then casually scanned the room. Grant made sure to not be seen watching him. It was clear he was looking for something. Me? There's no way he knows she's actually here with her husband.

The story Tiff always gave these guys was that she was visiting San Diego on business. She made sure that nothing in her purse would indicate otherwise, should the guy — creepily — look through it.

He'd just about decided that Josh was being greedy, and looking to pick up another girl, when Josh tossed a twenty on the bar to settle his tab, and walked over to a table that had three guys sitting at it. Josh started talking to them, and after a minute, he took a seat.

Oh. He's not looking for another girl. He's looking for more guys.

Tiff's message had made it clear that multiple guys were already with her when she sent it. So the guys Josh was now talking to would be in addition to however many were already fucking her. He did the math. Three new guys in addition to an original group of probably three or more, would make it six. At least.

The guys at the table looked to all be around the same age, his guess was late twenties. Dressed in what he'd consider business-casual for the mid-west, which meant somewhat less casual than the SoCal norm. Grant also guessed at their occupations, with salesmen and engineers at the top of the list. After a little more thought, he decided they weren't engineers — they would have been in t-shirts with inscrutable quotes or cartoon characters.

Two of them were Black, while the third looked Asian. Was Josh just a proponent of diversity, or did he pick these guys because Tiffany was white and they weren't? If you look at how popular the interracial category is in porn, it's obvious that a lot of people really get excited by it. It was quite possible that at least one member of Josh's "gang" was a fan.

Or, maybe he assumed that Tiffany was a racist. That being fucked by a guy who wasn't white would be degrading to her? If that was it, they were going to be disappointed. His wife wasn't a racist in any way, shape, or form.

The conversation at the table had started out lively, and had then progressed to looking more serious, with the guys leaning in as Josh spoke. Grant doubted Josh would succeed, as most guys would be pretty skeptical about some random dude offering them free sex.

At least I assume it's free. Was his wife about to technically become a whore? Unlikely, yet thinking about it gave him a perverse thrill.

Grant sat there, enjoying the novel experience of watching a stranger offer three other strangers the use of his wife's body. Finally, one of the guys shrugged, stuck out his hand, he and Josh shook on whatever deal had been made, and they all stood up. Grant was impressed — Josh must be smooth indeed. He expected the four of them to leave the bar together, but instead Josh handed one of them a room key, and the three new guys headed for the lobby. And beyond that, the delight's of my wife's body. Grant felt a surge of excitement at the image of her being fucked by those three guys.

The only reason Grant could see for Josh sticking around was that he intended to invite yet more guys to Tiff's gang-bang.

That's my Tiffany. No half-measures for that girl! When they'd first been married, on a vacation they'd done one of those zip-line across the valley things. Instead of starting on the short, low one, Tiff, who'd never even done a zip-line before, chose the highest, longest one they had.

Josh sat back down at the now-vacant table, typed something on his phone, then started looking around the room again. Grant knew that he might not be restricting his search to groups — those three guys may just have been low-hanging fruit, and efficient to boot. He was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to be one of the guys in the gang-bang. Fuck, that would be perfect. He'd get to see Tiff being screwed, not just hear about it, and without any of the drama that he'd always avoided. No cuckold games, no dialing-back their treatment of Tiff just because he was in the room. They wouldn't know I'm her husband.

He tried to figure out how to present himself as a good candidate, and realized he had no idea just what criteria you would use to decide who to invite to a gang-bang. Look lonely? Lonely and horny?

Whatever look it was, apparently he had it, because out of the corner of his eye, Grant saw Josh approaching. Now he just needed to not screw it up. If that was even possible — was there anything he could say that would cause Josh to reject him? The part of him that kind of wanted to find out was outvoted by the part that wanted to see Tiff in the midst of her gang-bang. Not too anxious. Not too willing.

"Hey, how's it going?"

Grant looked at Josh, and feigned being a little surprised. "Umm, ok I guess. How about you?"