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Chapter 8 Just Desserts
Our second production for Mr. Quarles did not, thank God, involve a pregnant woman. Noreen was a middle aged slightly overweight housewife who at the beginning felt she could tell Jerome’s crew to go to hell and get away with it.
It had been roughly six weeks since we’d made Marilyn’s DVD. I spent hours editing in our home office with Corrine looking over my shoulder. The odd thing was that without a word being spoken, we agreed to defy Mr. Quarles and make two versions.
Quarles’ version featured Marilyn and Jerome’s crew sucking her pussy and fucking all three orifices for seventy-five minutes. Her willingness to protect her unborn child combined with my clever edits resulted in a “Marilyn Adores Black Cock” result. I didn’t doubt her husband would conclude that she had a very good time indeed.
Our version included scenes of Corrine sucking cock, eating butt, fucking the crew in different positions, and going down on Marilyn. It ran for another thirty-five minutes.
Editing also triggered some very hot sex between us. Try to picture me bent over my desk with my pants down at me knees and Corrine stroking my cock while she fingered and licked my asshole. My wife used the term, Rusty Trombone, to describe that particular sex act. That on a couple of occasions, my rear wasn’t that clean didn’t slow her down a second. My sphincter sparkled after she gave it a tongue wash.
The sex had a voyeuristic component. A foot in front of my face, the high definition workstation screen showed Corrine doing the same to Kelso. I found it hard to believe that it was my wife whose face was buried in Kelso’s crack working his sphincter with enthusiasm. At times, it looked like she was trying to suck out the contents of his asshole. We had more and hotter sex during the editing than in Aruba on our honeymoon.
It was almost a week after I handed the disc to Morgan before he gave me some feedback and that was only after I dialed his cell. The conversation was brief.
“Morgan, this is Tom Meade,” I said.
“What do you want,” asked an annoyed Morgan?
“I just wanted to know whether Mr. Quarles liked the disc.”
“If he didn’t like it, you would have heard,” said Morgan ending the call, leaving me disappointed.
Like last time, Morgan arrived an hour early to make sure we were ready. Corrine looked more than ready. She came out of her office wearing a short robe covering some very sexy lingerie.
“Come here, baby” said Morgan signaling for my wife to step into his arms. “Let me see you,” said Morgan after they kissed.
“Well, what do you think,” asked Corrine after slipping out of the robe and spinning around?
I took one look and my dick voted for me. My wife definitely had sex appeal. Corrine had been shopping for heels, hose, boy shorts, garter belt, and bra. The lingerie was black lace and it looked damn good on her. She’d casually mentioned buying something that fit for the next Quarles production. I considered it significant I was seeing her purchases for the first time. The fact she had been to her hair stylist and had a facial and her nails done earlier in the afternoon wasn’t lost on me either.
“Looks mighty good for a white bitch,” said Morgan smiling as he pulled her back into his arms for another kiss that involved considerable tongue action.
“Everything ready, Tom,” asked Morgan? He was standing with his arm around Corrine holding her like she was his. Corrine’s arm was around his waist and her sheer bra didn’t hide the fact her nipples were erect.
“Yes,” I said gesturing toward the bedroom set Buncombe’s was featuring in that month’s sale. It was genuine cherry at least there was a thin layer of cherry on the outside of the white pine. The set consisted of a king bed, matching nightstands, ladies dresser and man’s chest on chest for the ridiculously low price of eleven hundred ninety nine dollars.
“Mr. Quarles has a request,” said Morgan reaching into a jacket pocket for a slip of paper.
“Sure, if we can,” I said.
Morgan read me what was on the paper then handed it to me. “Triple penetration in the reverse cowgirl position.”
I knew what triple penetration was but reverse cowgirl was new to me. “Reverse cowgirl, I’m not familiar with that one.”
“Bitch on top of the first brother facing his feet with his cock deep in her ass, second brother between her legs fucking her coochie, third brother standing, straddling her face, getting his dick sucked,” said Morgan. “When Jerome’s crew arrives, Corrine will show you how it’s done. Won’t you, baby?”
Corrine smiled but didn’t speak. She looked thoughtful. I could tell her mind was trying to work out how to accomplish Quarles’ request. It turned out to be a no brainer to do but difficult to capture on video.
“That’s not necessary. I get it,” I said.
“She’d love to do it. Every hole filled with a big black cock,” said Morgan. “Wouldn’t you baby?”
Morgan was fucking with me. Corrine had obviously had some sort of epiphany regarding being gangbanged. As for me, I was role-playing with Morgan. As far as he was concerned I was the jealous white husband angrily watching my beautiful and newly sluttish wife engage in group sex with irresistible black men.
In reality, Corrine’s behavior was a spectacular turn on for me. I had concealed my newfound lust with a tight fitting athletic supporter containing a wad of tissues to soak up any semen that might leak out on to my navy blue slacks. Corrine wasn’t the only one dressed for the occasion.
“Whatever,” I said to end the conversation. Filming a triple penetration in the reverse cowgirl position was going to involve some difficult camera work. How do you get revealing camera shots when the bodies are packed that close together? I decided I was going to have to use a hand held camera with a built in light source for extreme close-ups.
Morgan returned to making out with Corrine sliding her boob out of the bra so he could suck her nipple. The loud hiss of pleasure she made when his lips captured her bud signaled his efforts were welcome.
“I have some things to check on in the Control Room,” I said as I did an about face and walked away.
Morgan shouted as I left. “What’s the matter, Tom, Don’t want to watch me and Corrine get it on. Stay and have sloppy seconds.”
I kept walking even though I would have loved partaking in sloppy seconds.
I turned on the cameras and microphone as soon as I sat down. I made one change I hadn’t done last time. I tasked the application to write the incoming video and the audio to the hard drive.
This is different I told myself watching Corrine undress Morgan. She was easing the black turtleneck over his head. I had to hand one thing to the bastard. He was built lean showing well-defined muscle.
Corrine was sucking his nipples as she unbuckled his belt. The way she quickly dropped to her knees as she pushed his trousers down signaled how urgently she wanted his dick in her mouth. She even managed to keep it there as she took off his loafers and socks. He steadied himself with one hand on her shoulder as he stepped out of his pants.
A completely nude Morgan put his hands on both sides of Corrine’s head and engaged in a little skull fucking. At one point, he looked up at the ceiling camera and smiled. The bastard knew I was watching on camera.
I wasn’t just watching. I was stroking it.
Morgan lay back across the bed. Corrine got busy with his cock. I got some extreme close-ups studying her expressions as she went through the ritual we call a blowjob. She kept looking up at him with an expression on her face that communicated having his pecker in her mouth was the hottest experience of her life. Romance writers would call it a look of raw passion.
I always heard women don’t really like oral sex. They just do it to keep their man happy. I didn’t think that applied to Corrine. She looked Morgan in the eye and took his peter right down to her throat opening. Her nostrils flared indicating one final deep breath then she forced him deeper. Her neck swelled as the narrow passageway opened. Her carefully French manicured fingers were massaging with his balls and one finger had found its way to his anus.
Morgan must have been impressed because he said, “Damn, Corrine, you suck dick like a nigger whore.”
Morgan let her work for a few more minutes then announced, “Time to ride my pony.”
Corrine straddled him then took his cock and guided into her hole. He grabbed her nipples and pulled her down for a round of face sucking. She came back up ready to ride.
I had a close up of her face as she worked his dick. And work is very descriptive. He amused himself by pinching and twisting her nipples. Ever so often, he used her buds to drag her down to where she could suck on his tongue like it was his dick.
Other than low moans when she drove him deep into her womb, they were quiet. I didn’t time them but after a while it got fast and furious. Morgan bucked off the bed as he filled her tank. She went crazy screaming obscenities as she let go.
They lay side-by-side breathing heavy for a few minutes then Corrine got off the bed and walked in my direction. The Control Room was twenty feet away but she covered it quickly. I had no idea why Corrine was coming toward me. All I could say, she was one hell of a woman. If she’d been walking through a graveyard, all the male corpses would have popped out of their coffins with a hard on.
She was an incredible sight when she opened the door. Hair was disheveled and there was a wild look in her eyes. Lipstick was smeared. Tits were out of the bra and her nipples were hard and red. The boy shorts were back by the bed and her labia had that well-fucked look. Her clit was bright red and sticking out between her pussy lips.
She maintained eye contact with me as she crossed the room and gracefully stepped up on the arms of my chair. She straddled me and when I looked up I could see drops of Morgan’s spunk decorating her pussy.
She slowly lowered her cunt to my open mouth as she spoke, “You deserve a fresh one, Tom.” She was using one hand to hold the back of the chair to balance while the other opened her labia so I had a clear shot at her pussy.
My mouth was feverishly sucking on the hole Morgan’s pecker had occupied five minutes ago. I wanted what was inside.
“Suck it, Tom. Suck it all out,” whispered Corrine as inhaled her belly button to her spine and contracted her abdomen. That and gravity transferred the bulk of Morgan’s jism to my mouth. My hand was a blur working my dick. Just as I emptied her twat, I blew my load down the front of my trousers. I flopped around like a landed tuna. Some of the come landed on my loafer.
After I popped off the biggest load of spunk ever, Corrine climbed down and walked back to the door. Morgan was there. He’d watched the whole scene. I must have been a sorry sight. My face was smeared with Corrine’s cunt elixir and his pecker juice. There were long stripes of my jism trailing down the front of my navy blue slacks.
When Corrine reached Morgan, he took her in his arms and they kissed. Then he smiled at me and spoke. “I’ve always heard married sex gets boring; but I guess that’s not true in all cases.”
As they walked back toward the set, I wiped off my pants and shoe. I made a mental note to call the lady down at Barnes & Noble to see if she had any books by Nietzsche on the shelves. The abyss had taken over.
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