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By W2beh (w2beh@yahoo.com)


Every time my wife walked through the room, the game virtually came to a halt. Six sets of eyes, my own included, were watching her. At first, it was discreet looks, but as time wore on the stares became bolder. The guys around the table all knew her well. However, I don't think any of them had ever seen her looking so good. And I was certain they had never seen her without a bra, her breasts bouncing deliciously under the thin cotton summer dress that had seemed to become her trademark.

It was unusual that she was there at all. Our poker games occurred about twice a year on average, and had been going on for many years. Only one of the guys, Tony, lived in town, with most of the rest living in neighboring cities. Blake had to stay over night, his home being well north. It took a little effort for us all to get together for these games, but it was worth it.

The normal routine was for the host's family to clear out, making it an evening just for the guys. On this particular night, the kids were gone, but my wife's plans had suddenly fallen through at the last minute. And so it happened that she was home, and the distraction she created was evidence enough that the 'guys only' practice of the past was well thought out.

The start of the evening had been normal enough. The guys arrived about eight, and we spent a little time catching up on each other. When we took our seats and started playing poker, it was with the normal rowdiness that accompanied these events. The liquor flowed freely, mostly beer with shots of tequila thrown in from time to time. The stakes were low, the idea being fun, not gambling. If the big winner for the night went home $100 up, it was unusual.

For the first couple of hours, my wife stayed back in our room, and the guys didn't even know she was there. There was many times when I wished they did, as the conversation tended to be crude and there was little doubt the voices carried easily down the hallway. At best I could moderate my own comments, and hope she didn't find the rest too offensive.

When she finally came into the room, conversation came to a halt. The guys were all surprised to see her, and I was sure some were thinking back through their topics of conversation. My wife knew their wives. But she just smiled, and quickly put them all at ease. The hallway was raised above the dining room where we sat, and to a man we were all admiring the way the thin material of the dress hung so sexily on her slender body. The dark blue color, with the pattern of small flowers, obscured the details, but her shape underneath was readily apparent.

She watched as we resumed play. I was sitting at the head of the table, with my wife behind me, and I could see the guys looking past me to steal glances at her as we played on. Noting that the mood was now quite a bit subdued, my wife flashed them all a dazzling smile and told them, 'Don't let my presence interfere with your fun.' With that, she headed off to the kitchen.

As soon as she was out of sight the guys started hissing and throwing stuff at me, upset that I hadn't told them she was home. Judging by the clothes she had selected, I knew she liked being the only woman around so many men, so there was no reason to be concerned. 'Just relax, assholes, and play poker.'

Resuming play, I poured another round of tequila shots and passed them out. It helped to put everyone at ease, and it wasn't long before the rowdiness returned. We played a few more hands, and quite frankly I wasn't doing too well, which led Mark to comment, 'Maybe we should get his wife to take his place.' That brought catcalls and laughter, which suddenly stopped when my wife came back into the room with a tray of sandwiches.

She made a big show of delivering a sandwich to everyone at the table, pausing for a friendly word or two, putting everyone at ease once again. Serving me last, she then stood by my side and poured herself a shot of tequila. This prompted a few raised eyebrows as everyone paused to see if she would drink it. I knew she would, and wasn't the least bit surprised when she swallowed it in one gulp and poured a second. When she downed that one in similar fashion, everyone cheered in admiration.

As we played on, I had no idea what she was up to, and decided to conduct a test. She was leaning on my chair, up against my left shoulder, and as Clint dealt another hand, I casually ran my left hand up the back of her nylon-covered leg. Out of sight of the rest of the guys, my hand continued its journey north, crossing from nylon to bare flesh and moving on until my suspicion was confirmed.

Her pussy was bare under the dress, and the dampness my hand encountered left no doubt she was turned on. She looked down at me with a smile and a wink, then headed off to collect another round of beers from the refrigerator. The game paused as everyone watched her walk away.

When she returned, I immediately noticed the change. Her dress buttoned from top to bottom on the front, and now the top and bottom buttons were undone. I was certain they had not been that way before, and I wondered how many of the other guys made the same observation. She passed out the beers and again her manner relaxed them all.

One or two touched her back in thanks, and as she reached across to the table to collect the empties, I noticed her breasts brush across Blake's shoulder. Body language made it clear he enjoyed it, and when she carried off the empties to the trash a couple of the other guys were quick to point out how lucky he was. They were looking towards me, gauging my reaction, but I just smiled. She was definitely turning me on, too.

Where was this going? Was my wife thinking gang-bang? She was intentionally dressing and acting sexy, and getting noticed. Is that all she wanted? These guys were my friends of many years, since college days for most of them, and I wasn't sure I wanted that friendship to become complicated. But I also knew my wife was now the dominant force in our marriage, and if she had something on her mind I was not likely to object. In the last few months I had given her control, and so far had no regrets.

When she came back she had four buttons undone, two at the top and two at the bottom. This meant the top of her dress was free to open down to a spot between her breasts, and the bottom up to a spot just below her crotch. Others had to be noticing, and her boldness turned me on even more. When she poured another shot, we all joined her, Clint offering a somewhat drunken toast to a new tradition of having a beautiful woman in the house for our poker games. My wife was flattered and bent over to hug him across the shoulders, the act giving most of the table a good look at the space between her breasts.

Her face was flushed from the liquor as she moved from place to place at the table, holding friendly conversations with each of the guys as we played on. The pace of the game had slowed considerably with the distraction, but no one seemed bothered. The pile of chips in front of me was at an all time low, and when one of the guys commented that she might have to bail me out, she just laughed. Then someone else added that she might have to be collateral to cover my debts if my luck didn't change. She came to stand behind me with a quick comeback, 'Looks like I better change his luck for him.'

Her arms came around my shoulders and she leaned in to look at the hand I had been dealt, her breasts nestling in on either side of my neck. I couldn't be sure how it looked to the other guys, but it felt great. She held this position through a couple of hands, whispering repeatedly in my ear. While most of the guys figured she was commenting on the cards, only I knew she was offering a running commentary on how turned on she was.

Even though it was incredibly distracting, my luck took a turn and I won two hands in a row. This led to calls from the other guys for help, but she just waved them off. Her last whispered comment before she moved caused me to freeze, 'I hope you're ready to serve, slut.'

With that she turned away from me and started collecting the sandwich plates, giving a couple of good shots of cleavage along the way. As she headed back to the kitchen, I was still pondering her meaning. What was she up to? She came back into the room, but offered no clue, moving away from me in favor of attention from the other guys.

They were getting bolder, placing hands around her waist on her legs as she talked to them, often leaning in so that her breasts brushed against them. At each stop around the table, she looked directly at me. I just watched. It was erotic to see so many different hands on my wife, and I could not help but wonder if any of them had concluded by now she had no panties on. Certainly a hand on her bare hip would leave you wondering.

She proposed another round of tequila, and I knew that with her fourth shot she was reaching a point of no return. Tequila had always been an aphrodisiac for her. Everyone readily joined in, and this time in place of a toast, Mark proposed that if I lost another hand, my wife would be obligated to undo one more button. So it was confirmed, they had noticed. We drank down the shots, and my wife looked at me, 'Play well, my honor's at stake.'

It didn't seem fair, six guys playing and I had to win. Actually I came close, but in the end Mark took the hand, much to the joy of everyone else. Without pretense, my wife looked directly at Mark and said, 'You didn't specify top or bottom'.

'Well, I was thinking one of each, just like the last two times.'

She chuckled, then shamelessly undid one of each. The guys all whistled and hooted in appreciation. Her dress was now unbuttoned to a point well below her breasts from the top, and even with her pussy from below. It wouldn't take much for the group to get a free shot. She promptly collected the empty beer bottles and headed off for another round, all eyes on her. She returned with a tray of new ones, and stood next to me as she passed them out. When she handed one to Andy at the opposite end of the table, she leaned well over. I saw the dress billow away from her body, and the looks on the guys faces made it clear they got the view they were hoping for.

When she stood back up and Mark looked at me, 'You are one lucky SOB.'

I grinned, but my wife responded. 'No, I'm the lucky one in this marriage'.

Sounding like a compliment, all the guys hooted at that, but after a moment, Robert took the bait. 'How are you so lucky?'

Without hesitation, she answered, 'I married a guy who will do anything I tell him to do.'

All the guys knew me well and knew I was a very strongminded person, so this comment immediately brought cries of 'pussy whipped!' followed by laughter. I was stunned by her comment, and catching me completely off guard, it must have shown on my face.

As things quieted back down, Robert once again pressed her. 'How do you define anything?'

'Anything. He likes to entertain me.'

Anger rose up quickly in me. How could she be doing this? Only I knew her exact meaning, but she was pushing the limit. These were friends, not acquaintances we met strictly for adult fun. They were definitely curious now, and looking at me to get my reaction. Maybe she was just pulling my chain? I fought down the anger and tried to relax, knowing that ultimately, I would do whatever she asked. I couldn't help it.

Silently I prayed that she brought this situation under control and moved on. She had these guys turned on, and that was fine with me. If she had other things in mind, I didn't know how I was going to handle it.

Robert wasn't going to let it go. 'I think that requires an explanation.' The game had come to a dead halt. Every one of them was nodding and smiling in agreement with Robert. She had piqued their curiosity, and quite likely my negative reaction had led them to the conclusion it was a topic worth exploring..

My wife stunned me again with her response. 'How about a demonstration instead?'

'Absolutely', was Robert's immediately reply, everyone else in quick agreement. I sat up and reached for the tequila. My hands were visibly shaking as I poured myself another shot and drank it. Then another. My anger was building, but when I turned to my wife to speak, her eyes silenced me. She was standing between Robert and I, a hand on the back of each of our chairs.

Leaning slightly forward, her dress was open and I could clearly see her left breast. I realized that no one else had the same vantage point, so it was for me only. She smiled at me, and I recognized the evil I had seen in her in times past. The question on her face was simple, 'Do I still know my place?'

'Why don't you show these guys what I had you wear tonight?'

It was decision time for me. She hadn't left me an out. When I had showered earlier in the evening, before the guests arrived, she had insisted I wear the pink silk panties that she liked to humiliate me with. In the end I had relented, knowing that it meant great sex could be expected later.

I had been well aware of the panties when everyone first arrived, suffering from an irrational fear that somehow they could tell. But as the evening wore on, I had forgotten them. Now she reminded me rather harshly that I was wearing women's panties, and clearly expected me to let my friends know.

No one else in the room knew what she meant, but they all now looked at me, waiting to see what was going to happen. As I looked around the table, I measured my years of friendship with these guys against my desire to be the best slut-husband possible whenever my wife demanded it. It had been fun in the past, but this was different. These were good friends. In the end, it was the expectant look on my wife's face that made the decision for me. She wanted me to obey her, and I knew I would. Humiliating me was part of her game, and in the end I enjoyed it as much as she did.

With acceptance of my fate, I started pulling my shirttail out of my shorts. My intent was top pull the lacy edge of the panties up enough to show, and then endure the comments. But when I looked to her, she was shaking her head no. 'That's not going to cut it. Let's get them off.'

I stared at her in disbelief, but her resolve was obvious. Now I refused to look around the table for fear that I would die of embarrassment. She had laid down the gauntlet, telling these guys I would do whatever she asked. If I did, my relationship with them would be forever changed. If I did not, and made her look like a fool, the same could be said for my relationship with her. Recognizing clearly which one was most important, I stood.

She said, 'Start with the shirt.'

I hesitated a moment, then pulled it off over my head, dropping it to the floor. Some of the guys cheered while others whistled, clearly enjoying my predicament. Robert leaned over to her. 'What's he wearing?'

'You'll see.' Then turning to me she said, 'Let's go.'

I slipped my sandals off, then slowly undid my belt. My eyes never left hers, looking for mercy, but there was none. She wasn't going to back off. The guys had quieted, not really knowing what was going on. With great reluctance, I unsnapped my shorts and lowered the zipper, holding them closed the whole time. She crossed her arms and smiled. She wanted this, wanted me humiliated at her command in front of my best friends, and the redder my face got the more expectant she became. I gave her one more pleading look, and she responded with a slightly nod of her head. 'No'.

Never breaking eye contact, I released my shorts and felt them puddle at my feet. The reaction was instantaneous.

'I'll be damned.'

'Unbelievable.'

'Holy shit.'

'Of all the people to be a pervert, I would have never guessed.'

The humiliation was intense as I stepped out of my shorts. I gave my wife my best 'are you satisfied now' look, but the glare I got in return chilled me. She wasn't.

Robert looked at me, still snickering. 'Do you wear these often?'

I couldn't speak, but didn't have to. My wife answered. 'Anytime I tell him to.'

'What else does he do?'

'Anything I tell him to.'

'Well then, I think that calls for another drink and further demonstration.' Robert started pouring shots while everyone else murmured their agreement. There was definitely a level of shock amongst my friends, and a little uneasiness, but they still seemed curious. My wife interrupted my thoughts, 'Go get our toy box, slut.'

I don't know which surprised me more, the request, or her referring to me as 'slut'. I turned without question and headed down the hall, hearing behind me, 'You call him slut?'

She had sent me to retrieve our box of sex toys, which we keep hidden in our closet. I passed by the mirror in our bedroom and was immediately overcome by embarrassment. I pulled the box out of the closet and hurried back past the mirror without another look. When I came back into the room, my wife was taking a shot with all eyes on her. Her drinking wasn't the cause for attention, she had now undone every button and her dress was hanging open.

Her breasts were still covered but her pussy was visible, the hair just now coming back in from the shaving she had received a few weeks earlier. It was a wonderful sight, and at first no one noticed me standing there, looking ridiculous in women's panties.

My wife quickly brought the attention back to me, taking the box and ordering me to sit. 'These guys want to see what you do to entertain me.' No response was expected and I remained silent, so nervous I was shaking. 'Why don't you start by rubbing your cock hard for me inside those panties.'

So I wasn't going to get off easy. My chair had been pulled back away from the table, but I was still facing all my friends. The poker game was clearly over, and I had two choices: flee, or do her bidding. The urge to run was overwhelming, but I closed my eyes tightly so I couldn't see the guys, and slowly moved my right hand to my crotch, starting a smooth rubbing motion. My anxiety was definitely working against me, and my body did not respond.

I could hear their voices as they expressed their disbelief, and I tried hard to tune them out. It took several minutes, but then I felt a familiar twinge in my groin, and I actually started to get into the scene a little. I must have been making a face from closing my eyes so tightly, but I knew that if I looked around I might never get started again.

I could feel the heat of humiliation in my face as it flushed red, but at the same time I felt a heat in my loins. As I hardened, I suddenly took a perverse pride in the size of my manhood. At least these guys would know I wasn't a slacker in that department.

Now rock hard and straining against the panties, my wife offered encouragement. 'Very well done, slut. I think these guys doubted whether or not you would obey me.'

Clint seemed to have read my mind, at least partially. 'Damn, if I had a package like that I wouldn't use it to be a pervert.' The other guys chuckled.

My shame deepened, but my hand never quit working, continuing to rub my hard cock through the pink panties, surrounded by friends who had never seen me be anything other than a man's man. It was as humiliating an experience as I could remember, and although I didn't know it, it was about to get worse.

With my eyes still closed, I heard my wife. 'He's being pretty cooperative so far, don't you think?'

It was Robert that understood the innuendo and answered. 'What's next?'

'You want to see more?'

'Why not?' was Robert's reply.

An abstract thought crossed my mind; none of the guys had objected or left. Out of five, it seemed unlikely that everyone would accept what was going on. But we were old friends, and in the end I concluded it was part drunkenness, part group dynamics, and probably part pleasure at seeing me humiliated. There had many times over the years when my ego had been a source of friction. Add in the fact that my wife had gotten them pretty worked up, and they were probably horny and eager to see what might happen next.

From the noises I heard I assumed my wife was digging in the box. Then I heard some snickering, and Clint said, 'Oh, he's going to love that.' I kept my eyes closed, scared to look.

Robert spoke next. 'What are you going to do?'

'Watch.'

I felt my wife's hand on my shoulder, urging me to turn to my left, towards her. 'Come here, slut, mine needs some attention.'

Her words and the snickers that came with them caused curiosity to overpower embarrassment and I slowly opened my eyes. She was standing directly in front of me, with the guys looking on. Her dress was parted, and in her hand was the big cock-shaped dildo, and she was holding it with the base against her crotch as if it were her own cock. It was pointing right at my face.

'Suck my cock, slut.'

This situation was now officially out of control. I looked up into her face, begging with my eyes. 'No, please', I said softly.

She stared at me a moment, the evil smile on her face. 'Suck my cock, slut.'

I let out a deep breath of frustration, glancing around the room. They were all leaning forward, waiting to see what I would do. I turned back to my wife and looked up again, seeking any sign of mercy. She shook her head no, her movement barely perceptible.

I closed my eyes and wondered how I had lost control of this situation, why it had to involve my friends. When I opened my eyes again, I could feel the tears in them. Without further delay, I leaned forward, opened my mouth, and accepted the head and several inches of her hard cock into my mouth.

'Unbelievable.'

'Jesus, who would have thought it.'

'That boy's pussy whipped in a bad way. Oh, sorry, cock whipped.'

I closed my eyes again and brought my hands up to her hips. If she wanted a show, wanted me humiliated beyond reason, I'd give it to her. Holding her firm, I started working my head back and forth, feeling the big cock sliding in and out of my mouth.

My wife liked what she saw. 'That's it slut. Show them what a good cock-sucker you are.'

I pulled off and ran my tongue along the underside, going the full length and back again. Repeating this on the sides, I started to enjoy the situation somewhat. Why not, the damage was already done. Coming back to the head, I swallowed as much as I could. Her free hand came up to my head and she took control, sliding her big cock in and out of my mouth.

I forced myself to relax and let her fuck my face, wondering what my friends must be thinking. It was unimaginable what I was doing, and I couldn't tell if their nervous laughs were out of disgust or to hide the fact that they were getting turned on.

My wife was working the big cock to the back of my throat, and I nearly had it all. I had to fight off the urge to gag, and my eyes were watering profusely.

She spoke to the other guys, never breaking her rhythm. 'I told you he'd do anything.'

They all laughed, and she added what I knew by now was coming. 'Think he's ready for the real thing?' Looking right at the group, she asked, 'Anyone want their dick sucked?'

Tony blurted out, 'He'll do that?'

Robert said, 'What do you think? He's sitting here in women's panties, rubbing his hard-on, and sucking on a dildo right in front of us.' He sounded disgusted, but didn't hesitate to turn his chair towards us. 'I'm ready.'

I could have figured it would be Robert; he was always the guy talking about extreme pornography, such as fisting and beastiality. My wife pulled out of my mouth, the big cock wet and glistening. 'Tell them my favorite way to be entertained by my slut.'

I looked at her, knowing what she wanted me to say. She quickly admonished me. 'Where are your manners, slut. Look at your guests when you speak to them.'

I'm having doubts about saying anything at all, and she's giving me instruction on how to do it. Accepting my role, I turned to the group of guys. Even as I heard the words cross my lips, I couldn't believe I was saying them. 'She likes to see me pleasure other men.'

'What kind of pleasure slut?'

'Sexual pleasure.'

'Well then, let's show them, shall we?'

She stepped back and left me looking right at Robert. He was probably the least attractive guy in the group, with his glasses, receding hairline, and beer belly. But it wasn't as if I had a choice. His legs were apart and he waited, a big grin on his face. My courage was flagging and I was having doubts about going further, when my wife spoke again.

'Come on slut, you know what to do don't you? It's not like it's your first time.'

In case they had any doubt, they now had good reason to believe I'd sucked cock before. Even if I stopped here, she had just told them it wasn't a new experience for me. But in reality, what did it matter? I knew I wouldn't stop. Not unless she told me to. Resigned to my fate, I slipped out of my chair, falling to my knees on the floor. Scooting forward a couple of feet, I was now between Robert's spread legs.

Taking a deep breath, I reached up to his belt and unbuckled it. The snap of his shorts came next, and then I unzipped his pants. It occurred to me that I had never taken clothes off another guy, and it was a strange feeling, especially with people watching. All the other guys were on their feet now, crowding around.

'Jesus, he's really going to do it?'

'Damn sure looks like it.'

'Of course he will', my wife said. 'I told him to. Right slut?'

I paused, suddenly aware of the humiliating circumstances. Softly I replied, 'That's right.'

'Tell them what you are going to do, slut.'

She added to my burden, and it stung. How odd it was that I enjoyed this, that a part of me wanted extreme humiliation. What exactly did that say about me? I was broken and offered no more resistance. 'I'm going to suck Robert's dick.'

That definitely got a reaction out of the crowd, and they seemed to press in closer.

'This I have to see.'

'Sweet Jesus, who could have predicted this?'

'I could have', my wife stated smugly. They laughed.

Hooking my fingers into Robert's shorts and boxers on either side, I pulled. He lifted his ass off the chair and allowed me to remove his shorts and underwear. I slowly eased them down his legs and off his feet, setting them aside. My eyes settled on his cock, which was short and thick, and hard as a rock. His hairy testicles were nestled in between his legs. I thought about what I was about to do, and lifted my eyes from his cock to his face. He grinned big, 'Suck it. You know you want to.'

He was right, I did. But I was still scared, unable to act. It was bad enough that I was sitting there dressed only in silky pink panties, that I had been playing with my own cock in front of them, and that I had sucked a fake cock for their amusement. Everything up to now I could possibly write off as drunken stupidity. However, once my friends saw Robert's cock in my mouth, there would be no turning back. Things would never be the same again, and who knows what future that would portend.

I looked around, scanning the faces surrounding Robert and I. Everyone looked expectant, liked they were waiting for something special. I was still surprised no one had gotten disgusted with my behavior and that no one had left. The other four guys were waiting on a show, and I was the primary entertainment. Clint was to my immediate left, and he had a bulge in his jeans, which my eyes locked on to. He was turned on, that was obvious.

Looking back around the circle, I figured they all were finding the situation arousing to some degree, and my own cock was hard and pressing against the silk. The one thing I did not see in their faces was mercy. They wanted to see this, to see me humiliated. How could they be so cold? I turned to my wife, begging one last time with my eyes.

Her reply was not a surprise. 'Everyone's waiting slut.'

Turning back to Robert, my eyes dropped to the hard cock right in front of my face. I started to lean forward, but first I had another thought. In my prior cock sucking experiences, my hands had always been bound. To this day, I had never touched another man's cock. If I was going to do this, then it was time to change that. Sliding my right hand up Robert's thigh, I closed around his manhood, feeling another man's cock in my hand for the first time.

Someone whistled and muttered, 'Son of a bitch.'