I am aware that I am blindfolded and half naked, feet bound as well as my hands which are tethered securely at the middle of my back. The only bit of clothing I feel is my underwear, a simple black bra and black lace panties. I kneel quietly, having been placed there only moments before by someone, into this vulnerable kneeling position. I feel taut skin gently sliding across my quivering lower lip; a hand on the back of my head forcefully grips my hair, twisting a handful of my long, dark locks until it hurts. The mystery fist is planted firmly against my scalp now.

Two fingers trace the outside of my mouth slowly, gently fondling and slightly contorting my thick lower lip, then placing the same fingers inside of my mouth. I smell male excitement, the musky scent of sweat and lust. The scent of incense permeates the room, quickly enveloping me and my anonymous counterpart. I swirl my tongue around the inserted fingers, slightly sucking and licking the digits and the skin in between. Muffled groans emerge from straight ahead of me. The fingers are removed.

A quick gasp and a gag are my instant responses as an unusually large member is slammed into my mouth and seemingly down my throat. The absolute girth causes the corners of my lips to ache as I begin to choke back the illness raging from the repetitive tapping against my uvula. I begin to whimper as I feel the random surges of spunk make its way down my throat, some spurts tasteless from the sheer distance of the emission. I know this man is not my husband.

The forceful stranger in front of me withdraws himself from my face and begins to touch me again. First, my lips with a thick thumb then my cheeks, eventually moving downward and grabbing my throat. He presses his lips against mine, the act is painful, harsh and extremely exciting. The person I sense now behind me begins to caress my breasts, removing my bra carefully then alternately kissing my sides and beneath my breasts until I am visibly excited. The forceful one's mouth is still against mine, his tongue fishing around against mine, savoring his own potent, bitter flavor.

From behind I feel a body against my back pressing hard with a solid, firm erection. He reaches over, unties my feet, flips me and rolls my underwear down over my hips and thighs, down past my toes. Kissing me from the top of my head, down and lower as he pushes my legs apart and in the center begins licking softly, then intensely, then softly again. Countless times I shiver as he continues to tease, each time forcing me closer and closer to satisfaction. A sudden eruption of warmth flows through my mind and body. Satisfaction courses through my veins with each rapid thump of my heart. Could this be my husband?

He mounts me and I feel the hands of yet another, in addition, explore my form, moving large, wanting and unfamiliar paws across curves of my flesh. The man I think is my husband plunges into me, first slowly then faster and deeper. His strokes and moans are familiar and I decide that, yes, this is the man I am married to. Through labored breathing, he releases a resounding groan as he thrusts deeply into me. He then kisses me tenderly across my chest, gets out, up and off of me. I listen as his bare feet tap against the floor as he walks away.

The third man presses something hard and moist against my lips. As I draw in a sharp breath, I detect a familiar scent. An olive. He places the treat past my lips and onto my tongue, removing it twice and then twirling it around, teasing. I gobble the olive. I bite my lower lip back, anxiously awaiting my next little goodie. The stranger lifts my upper body from the floor until I am sitting in front of him; I detect his breathing, heavy and close. He unties my hands and guides them to his lap.

I feel my hands being wrapped around a cool ceramic cup and guided to my lips. He tilts the cup and I drink. The cup of sweet wine is removed. My thirst is quenched but the level of my desire has heightened.

A warm moist tongue licks the corners of my lips then consumes my entire mouth. During the kiss, there is an exchange of a maraschino cherry from his mouth into mine. I delight in the contrast of salty and sweet, olive to cherry.

Stranger number three grabs my head and affixes my face near his shaft. The head of his dick is huge and throbbing and I think, only for a second, that I may not be able to oblige him. I open my mouth to accept his fleshy organ and detect the distinct flavor of chocolate pudding. The pudding seems to be shrouding every inch of his erection. He guides my head to his hairy navel where another delicious lone olive sits, waiting for consumption. Guiding my head is no longer a necessity. With my hands now free, I tug at his dick as I suck, his body tenses and I begin a path to less sensitive parts.

I lick and suck and swallow a plethora of different flavors off the burly body before me. As I lean against him, tasting and caressing, he slides his cock between my waving breasts.

Placing his hands on either side of them, he clamps himself inside of the chasm of flesh and begins to stroke upwards and back. With chocolate pudding and my saliva as lubrication, after just a few strokes I feel him give way. I lean out to avoid a face full of cum as he bellows. The stranger collapses, releasing a lingering throaty moan and a slight giggle.

I am aware of now all three sets of hands across my exposed skin and my appetite for these two strangers and my husband is ravenous. I want to be filled by the three of them repeatedly and mercilessly. I suck in a deep breath to bask in the scent of sex. The men are approaching. I am ready to accomodate.

My blindfold is removed and my head lifted by my hair, as I focus my eyes and in disbelief I call out just one name...

"Susan. Susan, are you going to just stand there?"

I shut my eyes and open them again. I purse my thick lips and blow out the fire consuming the stick of incense I'm gripping, clear my mind, and look directly into the face of my husband.

He looks around at his two male friends joining us for dinner, shakes his head and says as he lifts his wine glass, "That woman," I'd give anything to know what was going on in her head. Gentlemen, I propose a toast... to my wife!"

His two closest friends lift their glasses.

The three men share glances, nod and smile, "Here, here."

All three gulp down their drinks as I languidly sip my own. I place my burnt fingers in my mouth to sooth them with a combination of sweet wine and my own saliva.

Moments later, I am asked by my husband to refill all three empty glasses. I oblige and fill each glass to its capacity, smiling coyly and staring intently at each man behaving with every sip ever more uninhibited and free. If only an opportunity would present itself...

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