I woke in agony; my guts clenching with terror. Panting, I felt the sheets, twisted and sweaty. Was my conscience awakening, after all this time?
I felt for Francesca in the dark. “Babe, can you wake up for a minute?” I found her shoulder and squeezed it gently. She murmured as I switched on the light.
“What is it, Hermie?” She brushed her hair out of her eyes. She was spooning the soundly sleeping Dove, her gorgeous twenty-year-old intern, who we had been sharing that night. Francesca is a well-regarded video artist, currently being exhibited at the MOMA. She is using the videos of our sexual adventures for a future project, designed to be sent into space. I look forward to being a posthumous porn star, with future aliens jerking off to my pasty ginger ass.
“I had the worst dream. Hellfire, laughing devils, I was being torn to shreds. I think I am feeling guilty. I never feel guilty. Was I wrong, fucking Carly like that?”
“Herman, you are a beautiful man who has had a terrible year. 2020 has been a drain. You have had so many overnights, double shifts, you get manic sometimes. Honestly? I think Tom and Carly were into the sex. I would have said something if I didn’t think so. You need to rest.”
She had a point. Tom and I are pulmonary/critical care physicians at a major metropolitan hospital center. COVID has been so exhausting, physically, mentally, emotionally. We had lost colleagues, friends, neighbors, and worked ourselves raw. I was not the best version of Herman Sherman, MD. “It’s usually fun and games, what we do. This feels different.”
“Wasn’t it something about the masks?” Dove offered, still half asleep. Dove was the daughter of one of my ICU nurses and a promising art major on scholarship to the best university in our region. Francesca had been the one to bring her into our lovemaking, first fucking her in the laundry room.
“It started with the mask disagreement. Lots of people have been eating during the conferences, and he went off on me in front of everyone. I get it; the masks are essential for stopping the virus. But I was twelve feet away from everyone, and those meeting go on forever. I was also really upset because I had to re-intubate someone who I had promised to get out of the hospital.”
Francesca stroked my hair. “You use sex as a weapon. We get that. Everyone has a kink. Like you always say, ‘if we’re all getting fucked, we might as well enjoy it.’”
I have found medicine so frustrating as a profession. Knowing the exact right answer still meant little compared to the weight of human depravity and limited resources. Francesca got me into sadomasochism to allow me to express that anger in a self-contained manner. In lucid moments, I know I’m a narcissist and suspect I’m a sociopath. That said, I am trying to make it all work. There must be a balance.”
“Sometimes I think I want a war. I want an enemy to fight. Medicine is unsatisfying because you’re fighting someone who’s a victim, and there’s nothing to hit. It’s nobody’s fault, and I’m the one to picking up the pieces. We use manipulation to build up people’s egos and then pull the rug out from under them. We take advantage of their selfishness, loneliness, jealousy. We can fight and win without shedding a drop of blood.”
Dove yawned. “Herman, that video was totally hot. Francesca made me come three times while we were watching it. When you grabbed her by the neck and pulled her off your dick …” Dove bit her lip and moaned. I noticed the covers were rustling softly around Dove’s waist. I looked into Francesca’s eyes and grinned, then leaned over and kissed her on the mouth.
“You two, I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m not revenge fucking anymore. I want to reconnect with the intimacy and the sense of fun that I used to have. I spend way too much effort on mind games and manipulation.
“Babe, you really think they weren’t into it?” Francesca asked. Dove was quietly gasping now, likely finger fucked by Francesca under the covers. “You could always just call and apologize.” She nuzzled Dove’s ear, and bit it, gently, whispering “darling, my husband is preoccupied with his newfound guilt and he’s ignoring your sweet little pussy. Let’s help him find it, shall we?” She reached down and pulled the blanket away from the nude Dove in a single motion. Francesca had three fingers inside her, fucking her briskly. She slowed down, shifted her arms, reached between Dove’s thighs, and firmly spread her legs apart.
My mouth dropped open, watering. I had my boxers off to free my erect cock in an instant. I crawled over to them. “Dove, dear, your pussy is so tempting. But I’m afraid the woman of the house gets first dick.” The women giggled, and I put one hand down to test Francesca’s snatch. It was warm, wet, and open. I fit my cock into Francesca; after all these years, our privates know each other better than anyone. I grasped Dove by the waist, bringing her open pussy onto my lower abdomen and pubis, so that I was rubbing her clit and pussy as I fucked her boss.
Francesca was necking with Dove, and I stroked the young woman’s chest lightly as she undulated. There is something so beautiful about a woman loving another woman; I breathed and absorbed the vision. I could rub Dove’s crotch and watch the tremor of pleasure move through her. When it passed into Francesca, I felt her torque her pussy on my cock even harder.
I leaned down and suckled Dove’s small breasts, reddening and moistening them around their areolae. I gave Francesca a burst of power, fucking her harder and harder, and I pulled her tight to me, kissing her over Dove’s shoulder as the young woman was squeezed between us. When Dove was breathless from the pressure, and Francesca was breathless from the force. I slowed down and pulled out of her.
“You bastard,” Francesca smirked at me, knowing my next move. I picked up Dove by her pink flushed hips and entered her. She gasped and breathed deeply, her eyes wide. I fit a hand beneath her back and lifted her off Francesca, who luxuriously pulled herself up to a crouching position.
I laid Dove on the bed, and she obediently reached between Francesca’s thighs. Francesca situated herself, and Dove pulled her face into Francesca’s crotch. My wife grinned wickedly and licked her lips, and I pulled her in for a kiss as I began wildly fucking Dove.
Francesca and I made out passionately as she ground down into Dove’s lovely young face. Dove matched the strength of my thrusts, strength she’d developed in years with the women’s lacrosse team.
The triangle that we made with our mouths and hips was so harmonious and exquisite. I could not last long, but it was Francesca who came first, purring and then moaning, finally grasping me around the neck and screaming into my mouth as we kissed. I shot young Dove full of come.
Panting, I slid onto the bed beside the sweat and pussy-slick Dove. She kissed me softly as Francesca crawled down to the floor. She grasped Dove’s waist and roughly turned her hips. Dove responded by flipping over. Francesca delivered a few brisk spanks to her ass. “Get your mouth on my husband’s dick,” she ordered, my warrior woman.
Dove looked me in the eyes and took my wilted penis in her mouth, rousing my old soldier back for another adventure. I could see the crest of Francesca’s hairline behind Dove’s spread asscheeks, and I knew the slurping sounds I heard meant that my wife was sucking and swallowing my come from her intern’s pussy. Dove started to move her head and neck in rhythm to the slurps. I grasped her head and fucked her mouth and throat more forcefully. My cock was diamond hard.
Francesca stood and playfully smacked my hands away from Dove’s head, taking a handful of her thick hair to control the young woman’s cocksucking. With her other hand, she reached back and grabbed Dove’s crotch again. “Yeah, bitch, take it,” my wife grunted. Dove came hard, clenching and twisting her whole body. My cock loved every spasm of it.
When Dove was finished, Francesca rolled her off me, leaving me aching, twitching, needing release. Francesca stood over Dove’s nude form and crooked her finger, motioning for me. She slapped her ass and spread her asscheeks. I quickly was off the bed and behind Francesca, mounting and fucking her from behind with ferocious intensity.
Dove squeezed and kissed Francesca’s generous tits, basking in the attention she was getting. I grabbed Francesca by the wrists and pulled back as hard as I could, driving her face into Dove’s chest. She sucked on Dove’s tits and drove her ass back into me. Soon, I came again, releasing Francesca’s arms and spooning her on the bed as she clutched Dove. We were all tired, enjoying the glow of our closeness. I reached down, covered us with a blanket, and we fell asleep.
The next day, I was in my office, reviewing charts electronically ahead of morning rounds. I had a few minutes to spare, and called Tom. He was home on an admin day.
“Herman!” Tom cheerfully answered. “Great to hear from you! How’s life?”
“Tom, it’s great to hear your voice. Listen, I really don’t feel right about the other night. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t deserve it. I know you’re phobic about germs, too. A few days before the dinner, I had a negative COVID test and a negative STD test. I had a vasectomy three years ago. I don’t blame you for being angry, but I had to talk to you.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Herman, could I ask you to give me a call back in a few minutes on the video conference? I’d like to bring Carly into the conversation.”
I sighed and told him I would. I bit my lip and died inside as I waited to call back. I tried to check more clinical data, but the numbers and words didn’t mean anything to me. I logged into my conference app and called him exactly five minutes later.
Tom answered, seated at his dinner table, with a big shit eating grin on his face. Carly rested her chin on his shoulder. “Herman, like I said, I’m glad you called! I got to tell you, I’m new man! Carly and I are like teenagers again, always making out and touching each other. We had talked about swinging a few times, but we didn’t know where to start.”
“And the germphobia! I feel so much less anxious about it now. I can handwash once without repeating it. I went to the grocery store without getting a panic attack yesterday. This is the greatest gift you could have given me! My therapist says she wishes all her clients could get their wives banged in front of them!”
They seemed happy. My head was spinning. “You guys are sweet. But I don’t deserve it. How can I make it up to you?”
“Well, we have to do it again! I’ll stick to seltzer this time, you old dog,” he chuckled. “Carly, show him your love note.” Carly blushed and stood up. Tom repositioned the camera and moved back from the table.
The young wife addressed me. “Hi there, Herman. You look terrific.” She squeezed her breasts together under her long t-shirt, thrusting them into my view. Then she stepped back and bent at the waist. She slowly skimmed her fingers along her legs as she moved upward, raising her t-shirt over skimpy maroon panties, revealing a message scrawled in lipstick on her taut abdomen. I leaned forward to read the words ‘HERMAN’S COCK HERE’ with an arrow pointing down to her pussy.
My heart was racing. I was rock hard, of course. I croaked out, “Carly, you’re incredible. Listen, if you don’t hold me accountable, I’m not going to learn my lesson. You can’t reward my bad behavior.”
Carly sat back on Tom’s lap and they kissed over her shoulder, his hand under her shirt, squeezing her tit. She tilted her head toward the camera and said, “Herman, if you want to be punished, I can do that for you.”
I coughed. Goddamn. “You two are wonderful. I have to go.” I ended the call and stood up from my desk, willing my erection to lie back down. How was I supposed to be a better person now?
It was a stupid disagreement. I was eating breakfast and drinking coffee during our weekly conference for my job. Tom, a co-worker was a notorious germophobe, and COVID was his personal apocalypse. He came up to me after conference and confronted me, in front of everyone: “Herman, you had your mask off during conference. You got to keep it on. You’re not even supposed to be eating in here.”
I lashed out; I should’ve held my tongue. But lots of people were eating, and he wasn’t even boss. He had no authority over me. “Tom, have you guys decided that there’s a no food policy in the meeting? No? Then don’t put your shit on me.”
He turned around and walked back to his seat. I was all fired up and walked out of there in a fire of furious rage. What the fuck? I couldn’t take an insult like that lying down.
Other people from my group called me to apologize on his behalf. He was a little rich boy, never been in a fight; others did his apologies for him. Days went by, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Finally, I was left with the only solution: I had to get his wife to suck my dick and film it. Fuck her in front of him.
I know, it’s not the simplest way to quit being angry at someone for acting like a prick, but I didn’t choose to be like this, I just … am like this.
I’m old fashioned; I still fuck women exclusively. Otherwise I’d figure out a way to sodomize him. It would be more direct, but I would have to settle for his wife, Carly.
I went online and studied Tom and Carly’s wedding pictures. You can read everything in a person’s facial expressions. I looked at Carly’s face, and saw what I needed. Her stiff upper lip, blank eyes and wide smile. The angles of her face. The sweetness, the barely concealed fatigue and frustration. Every look said: “You owe me, asshole.”
Compared to her, he was all softness. Quavering uncertainty, his will always failed. He didn’t have that killer instinct that rich boys needed to earn their father’s love. He was a second son, a disappointment, and he always would be.
I went to him and made a show of apologizing to Tom profusely. I made it abundantly clear how terrible I felt, and how I respected his bravery for enforcing COVID policies. I threw myself at his feet. I begged him to come for dinner with my wife and me. And to bring Carly, of course.
My wife, Francesca, is a tremendous cook. We bought several bottles of good red wine, and had steak, char-grilled to perfection. When they arrived, Tom and Carly were reticent to drop their masks at first, but they wanted to mirror our unmasked approving faces. The masks were pocketed quickly.
Tom relaxed in our company, bragging, laughing loudly, while Carly and Francesca chatted. We were all good friends now; any unpleasantness was in the past. Before long, Tom drank glass after glass of red wine and was heavily slurring his speech. After dinner we were in the living room talking. Francesca and I switched, so now I sat with Carly, and she sat with Tom. I could hear his voice dropping lower in register; I knew the wine was getting to him, and we refilled his glass whenever we could.
Carly found everything that I was saying hilarious. She could not stop laughing at my impressions of celebrities and the people from work. Finally, I started in on Tom. I imitated his germophobia, making him out to be Howard Hughes, with tissue boxes on his feet and jars of urine. Carly howled with laughter. When she leaned forward, I could through her decolletage almost to her navel. I put my hand on her shoulder and left it there.
Tom slowly turned his head. “Heyyyy…” he said, but he was too far gone to do anything. He slumped back into the couch, eyes wide, unmoving. He’d be a mute witness of the proceedings for long enough. Francesca rose from his side and came to me, kissing me tenderly on the mouth, absently stroking Carly’s throat and neck.
“Don’t stay up too late,” she whispered to me as she withdrew from me. She quietly left the room, with me and Carly close to one another. She would go to the computer room to start the living room cameras working to record all the events for posterity.
“I should probably call a taxi. It looks like Tom’s pretty drunk.”
“Just hold on a moment,” I said, and I drew her face to mine, inhaling her scent deeply. Her eyes were wide, frightened. She glanced over to Tom, still watching, not moving. I gently bit her upper lip and sucked on it. She shivered, and goosepimples appeared on her exposed chest. We kissed, and her sweet, sharp little tongue darted in and out of my mouth. She cradled my head with her hands, holding it for several moments.
She sighed and drew her head back, looking over at Tom. “I can’t do this,” she said. “I’ve only been married a year. My whole family was there. Everyone spent so much money. I can’t just go and fuck someone in front of my drunk husband.”
I took her hand and looked into her eyes. They were sparkling, crystal blue, intelligent and eager. Any fright they’d shown a few minutes ago had passed. Slowly, I drew her hand down to my erect cock. I let go and she didn’t move it. She licked her lips.
I pulled her close to me and we kissed. My hands were on her bare shoulders, unzipping her dress. She had a tight grip on my cock, working it up and down as she humped my leg. I unsnapped her bra and felt her warm, full tits in my hands, their nipples strongly erect.
She undid my slacks and released my cock, grasping it and looking into my eyes. I leaned toward her and whispered in her ear: “You see this cock? You are going to make it come harder and stronger than it ever has before.”
She started by kissing it on the side, running her mouth back-and-forth on it. Glancing from time to time at Tom, I murmured to her, “you have the most incredible smile, baby. I love the way you smile. Open up your mouth as wide as you can. Come on, wider. Let me see.” She complied; I put my hand on her chin.
“OK, I’m going to stick my fingers in your mouth so you start getting used to what it feels like. Yeah, OK, you see how when I push down, you drool a lot? That’s the kind of pressure you need to be putting on my cock.” She took the coaching well, bringing more and more of my girth into her small mouth. “That’s right, all the way in, slow and easy. Push me back with your mouth. Work your cheeks. I know you have more space in your throat. You can do a lot better than that. Push!”
Carly was now taking my cock like a pro, starting to bob up and down on it as she found her rhythm. I rolled my hips toward her while she gripped my ass tightly. My whole body shuddered; there’s nothing sweeter than a stolen blowjob.
“Don’t forget my balls, babe. Feel them with your hand, kiss and rub them on your cheek. Take the skin and just hold it between your teeth, just a little bit. Nice.” It was incredible to watch her, so gorgeous with her face shining with spit and pre-come and her broken husband in the background. I ran my hands down her heaving chest. “Let all that drool just wash over you, Carly. It’s not gross, it’s not disgusting, it’s what I want. Yeah, get it all over your face, all over your tits.” She complied and laughed, rubbing the fluid all into her skin. I hoped the camera was getting all this.
I needed to slow down before I came. I grabbed her by the throat and her eyes went wide, instinctively giving my cock the most delicious pressure. “Stand up,” I commanded, pulling her head off my cock. “Get naked.” She complied, discarding her sleeveless dress and bra while I kicked off my shoes and shucked off my pants. I stood and walked to her, unbuttoning and dropping my shirt on the couch.
She was trembling in an adorable pair of pink panties. I embraced as her and gripped her ass tightly as she relaxed into me. “Pink is my favorite color,” I breathed into her ear while she clung to me. I looked over at Tom, mouth open, erection tenting his slacks. “Someone’s having a good time,” I chuckled, drawing Carly’s attention to his cock. She giggled. “Get those fucking panties off.”
Carly slid her wet tits down my chest as she brought her panties down her thighs, past her knees and down her calves. She stepped out of them, giving my jutting cock a quick kiss as she stood up. I was ready to devour her. I wrapped her in my strong arms and lifted her, rubbing her wet quim on my cock. Carly humped me furiously and it slowly entered her. She kissed me, sucking my tongue with hungry intensity.
I countered her weight, thrusting into her. As I tired, I slowly sank to one knee. I gripped her hips and coordinated our move to the carpeted floor. Now she sat across my lap, driving and twisting her cunt against my rock-hard cock. Carly moaned and panted. I grinned and slid my hands across her sweat and spit-slick tits. She worked herself into a frenzy, squeezing my biceps and shoulders so hard I had to tap her forearms to ease up. I’d have bruises tomorrow.
Her panting and her pussy’s squeezing increased their tempo; she came with a loud, jubilant “yes!” I kept fucking her as she crumpled to my chest and hugged me. I kissed her softly; tears were rolling down her face.
“Stay with me, Carly, you’re doing great.” I stroked her back and sat up, gently bringing her to her feet. I led her over to Tom’s crumpled form and turned her to face him. I entered her from behind and guided her hand onto his shoulders. We regained our rhythm, and she humped back on me as I fucked her, faster and faster.
Tom’s eyelids were heavy but aware. “Tom!” I grunted. “Make yourself useful! Lick your wife’s clit while I’m fucking her, will you?” I patted him on the cheek, then gave him a light slap. Tom lazily stuck his tongue out, and I pushed Carly’s ass towards him. She moved her mons towards his mouth, and soon the three of us were in synch. “With gusto, Tom, gusto!” He needed a lot of encouragement.
My orgasm came, fierce and strong. I clung to Carly’s tits as I spurted, leaning into her and pushing her further into her husband. She moaned; I idly wondered if she was on birth control. I felt I had another jism still in me, so I pulled out and shot all over her back and Tom’s face. My resentment and anger faded as my heartrate slowed. I sank to the couch next to Tom, cuddling Carly’s nude form on my lap. She stroked my hair and rested on me.
After a few minutes, Francesca appeared in the doorway. She was in her bathrobe and had a satisfied smile. She walked over to us and handed me my folded pajamas. “I called a taxi for Carly and Tom,” she said. I nodded.
Francesca picked up Carly’s clothes, then patted the drowsy young wife on the shoulder. Carly compliantly followed her to the bathroom to wash up.
I rubbed my eyes and squeezed Tom’s thigh. “Buddy, it’s over, taxi’s coming. You need to be going.”
Tom blinked his eyes and felt the come on his face. I dressed; the smell of his wife’s pussy hung heavily in the room. He stood, unsteadily, and looked around. Carly had reappeared, dressed, with her coat on, holding Tom’s. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Herman, man, I’m so sorry I was rude to you, man. I feel terrible.” He was still slurring, but seemed genuinely repentant.
“Listen, rich boy. You may be able to buy anything, but you can’t buy fucking backbone. Don’t fuck with me, all right?” I brushed some of my come off his cheek and wiped it on his shirtsleeve. “Now get the fuck out.” He turned, joined Carly at the door, donned his coat, and shambled to the waiting taxi.
Herman’s Hermitage 