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Kim

12

WARNING!

This one is very different from anything I've written before, and I'm not sure what led me to write it, because it wasn't always easy. Like climbing a mountain I guess, because it's there. Some of my fans will perhaps wonder what's got into me, and it will give my detractors plenty of ammunition to throw at me, but works by good writers like Clarkovens, Xleglover and others have a big following, so hopefully some of you out there will like it.

Another point

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wasn't a detective!

Tom Clancy probably never killed anybody, and was certainly never the US President.

It wasn't Jesus, or God for that matter who wrote the bible.

So readers, don't mix ME up with any of the characters in this story, because that is what it is. A STORY!

Don't expect a high score, but comments, all of them as long as they aren't mindless rants, are welcome. So whether you love it or love to hate it, please enjoy it.

++++++++++++++

My wife Kim is, or should I say was, an extremely attractive young lady. I don't mean that she's not attractive any more; just that she's not my wife any longer. Not saying that I'm especially happy that we're not still married, but eventually I was left with no option. Even though it was certainly partly my fault to begin with, Kim really shouldn't have taken it as far as she did.

I guess you'll want to know why now, and I guess I've got to get it off my chest sooner or later.

------------------

It all started one Friday evening when we were both out for a night on the town. We were on our own, no kids on the scene yet to worry about, simply wanting to blow off steam after what had been a gruelling week of work for the two of us. We'd eaten, and very nice it was, and had strolled around the centre of town, eventually settling on a trendy looking bar on the ground floor of one of the best hotels in town. The Bacardi and coke was apparently good, and I could personally vouch for the quality of the real ale they were serving. The music was very much to our liking and Kim had even persuaded me to get up from my stool and join her on the small dance floor. You may have guessed that dancing wasn't exactly my favoured pastime, but the envious looks I always got from other guys when I got up and held my blonde, slim, long legged Kim in my arms, usually persuaded me to make the effort.

"Give me a break please Kim," I eventually pleaded, totally unable to actually match the way she undulated back and forward, the short skirt and somewhat skimpy top that she'd chosen to wear that evening, making the whole thing a joy to watch.

"Ok Mark," she agreed with a smile. "I could do with a drink."

And so I led her back to our table, not knowing that it would possibly be the last time I would ever do so.

"Sorry, is this your table?" A man, leaping to his feet as we got back to our drinks, greeted us. "I'm waiting for some friends and there was nobody sitting here."

"That's Ok," I assured him.

"There's only the two of us. No need to leave," my wife somewhat surprised me with. There were probably other seats somewhere, though I must confess the place had filled up quite a bit since we'd been dancing.

"Thanks," he grinned at us, lowering himself back down again. "I'm Chris by the way. Are you staying at the hotel?"

"No, just out for the night," Kim replied, "I'm Kim and this is my hubby Mark."

We chatted away quite happily, Chris explaining that he was staying at the hotel over the week-end, and was there to meet up with three locals, to discuss the possibility of setting up an off shoot of his company in the area. He was into mechanical widgets or some such things, which was not anything that I knew about, though by chance, my wife Kim did.

They chatted amiably for some time, sort of comparing notes with what his outfit did and how the company that she worked for overlapped. I wouldn't say I was feeling left out of it, but I was beginning to hope his expected guests would not be too long so that I could reclaim my wife's attention, but in that regard I soon found myself thwarted.

"Couldn't help noticing what a great dancer your wife was Mark," Chris suddenly said, directing his attention back to me. "Would you mind if I asked her to dance?"

Couldn't really say no, and indeed had no reason to. Chris seemed like a nice enough sort of guy and had bothered to ask me first, and besides Kim was giving me 'that' look that was threatening me with unspeakable things if I refused. Duly, he graciously offered her his hand, and I watched as he whisked her off onto the dance floor, where he made a damn site better job of it than I'd managed earlier. The remainder of the fast number that had been playing soon ended, and he confidently took my wife in his arms as slower music took its place, holding her close, but in fairness, not too close.

They looked good together.

Too bloody good if I was being honest, but after just the one dance he bought her back, and I felt myself relaxing and my pulse rate dropping. No harm done after all.

"Ah! Here are my friends at last," Chris announced as three young men, about our age approached the table, all smiles for Chris, but unable to keep their interest in Kim from their faces, probably wondering where she fitted in. Chris made the introductions, called the waiter over to order some drinks, and just naturally included the two of us. Soon discovering that I had a mutual interest in classic cars with one of them, Ben, I found myself engrossed in the relative merits of replacing the ignition system with the more reliable electronic method, now available on the market that could be hidden away unseen inside the standard rota cap. Meanwhile Kim found herself, not surprisingly, the centre of attention as John and Mike, along with Chris obviously, decided that she was, at least for that evening, more interesting than their silly widget things.

Over the next couple of hours; pleasant ones as I remember them, a fair amount of alcohol was consumed, any amount of amusing nonsense was spouted, and one by one Kim danced with all four of them. I was by then far more relaxed about how close they might be holding Kim in their arms, though I did note with some amusement that she was only invited up to dance when slow numbers were being played.

What the hell! She was enjoying herself, and I was enjoying watching her having such a good time. So a few hands wandered where, arguably, they shouldn't have ought to have been. None of them pushed their luck too far, and it was a pleasure to watch my lovely wife revelling in the attention that was being heaped upon her.

It was getting late; I'd had more than enough to drink, enough that I was grateful that I'd not driven our car into town that night. I was just looking forward to saying goodnight to our newfound friends and getting Kim back home and into our bed, when those plans were aborted.

"Right Chris," I heard one of them, I think Mike, say. "We'll get a couple of bottles and see you up in your room."

"Room 345," he called out. "On the third floor."

"Where else would it be?" Giggled Kim. Now Kim could hold her drink, but like me, like all of us, she'd had a few.

"Hang on a minute," I mumbled, not having agreed to go up to anyone's room.

"Come on lazybones," Kim teased me. "We've got a party to go to."

Now in the cold light of dawn, and later on I found myself there, a party with one somewhat scantily clad and very pretty young women and five men should have set my alarm bells ringing. The fact that we'd all had a good bit to drink should have multiplied my concerns, but it was probably that same drink that drowned them. A few minutes later and all six of us were trudging over to the escalators, laughing and joking, Kim giggling as she playfully patted away hands that were trying to take advantage, while I, maybe fool that I was, joined in the fun.

-----------------

You may be surprised, and you may be even disappointed to hear that once we got up to Chris's suite, everything settled down a bit. Kim plonked herself down into one of the armchairs, and us five guys sort of milled around, dismissing our politicians and anyone else we could think of as being incapable, even though of course not one of us had any hands on experience of such things.

Then Chris fiddled with the TV and found some music!

"Who's going to dance with me?" Cried out Kim, leaping to her feet, and grabbing Ben, who happened to be the nearest man.

Then the rest of us fell silent as we watched the lucky bastard pull Kim up close and dance, if you could call it that, with her, grinding himself against her in what was more of a mating ritual. I just sat there with a grin on my face, when perhaps with hindsight I should have been studying the lustful looks that were being directed at Kim.

"Me next," claimed Mike when the music changed, Ben reluctantly releasing her into the other man's grasp, who proceeded to make the most of his good fortune, his wandering hands even more adventurous than they had been before. Not that Kim offered any objection, while I sat there with an amused or should I say bemused grin on my face.

John, when he claimed his turn, upped the ante, cautiously, glancing at me a few times to gauge my reaction, flipping open a couple of the buttons that ran all the way down the back of Kim's top. I found myself shrugging my shoulders rather than what I probably should have done, while the other three edged him on. When the third button flipped open however, I came to my senses, calling out, "Hang on there."

John reluctantly released his hold on Kim, and she stepped away from him, looking up at me with a confused look on her face.

"Better do me up honey," she asked me, offering her back to me. "They're getting a bit cheeky."

"Right," I responded, but despite my concerns, doing just one of the buttons back up.

"You sure about this Mark?" Kim whispered to me, aware that I'd left the top two still open, the look on her face now more uncertain than confused.

"Not really," I mumbled back, maybe stupidly. "Enjoy yourself, but be careful."

With a nod, Kim stepped over to Chris, aware as he was, of what an open invitation the undone buttons were to take the matter further, and abandoned her self into his welcoming embrace, engulfed by him, Chris being noticeably the largest of us all. Not just large but also not stupid, as one by one, he snapped open the six remaining buttons that held her blouse together, the others looking on, holding their breath to see if she would let him get away with it, or that I would step in again, unaware that I was holding my breath as well.

She let him, the merest glance in my direction to see how I was taking it, accepting his actions when I made no sign to stop them.

Not only that but once fully undone, Chris started to gently ease her top forward, inch by painful inch, slipping the flimsy material forward over her shoulders and starting to slide it down her arms.

"Hang on! Hang on just a minute," she squealed, shoving him away and clutching at her blouse, pulling it back up to cover her skimpy little bra. Standing there like a terrified deer cornered by a pack of wolves, and not knowing whether to run or surrender.

"Mark," she called out to me, staring wildly at me, uncertainty mixed with lust written all over her face. "What the hell are we doing?"

"I don't know Kim," I responded dumbly, totally unable to think it through clearly, wildly excited by what was happening, the whole thing so very far outside of any previous experience.

Perhaps seeing their opportunity slipping away, this time Mike and Ben together stepped up to Kim, and the pair of them started to caress her, running their hands down her back, down her arms, and through her hair. Then more boldly squeezing her bottom, Mike pulling her towards him and forcing his lips to hers, while Ben set about sliding her blouse back off.

I tore my eyes away from what they were doing to my wife, all her resistance having melted, and looked over at the other two, Chris and John, who stared back at me, trying to gauge what my reaction was going to be, maybe to head off any interruption on my part.

Looking back I was shocked to see that her blouse had already gone, just the flimsy bra left, hardly covering her breasts, and Ben already fiddling with the back of it.

I stood there paralyzed by indecision, when to my surprise, Chris intervened.

"Hang on you two," he spoke up, maybe sensing rather than seeing the tears that were welling up in my eyes. Tears of indecision rather than anything else I have to confess. Of indecision, uncertainty and of being so far out of my depth. Kim and I had never thought about doing anything remotely like this. We'd never so much as fantasised about it, or even talked about it, and yet here we were, Kim being stripped by four strangers, while I stood there allowing it to happen. Yes, damn it, stood there watching it happen right in front of me, the excitement of it all sending my senses reeling out of control.

"Mark my friend," Chris, the so capable Chris said carefully, quietly but oh so decisively. " I think you and Kim need to take a break and get your act together before you do something you might live to regret. Why don't you take her into the bathroom and talk this through while us four have a drink and calm down a bit."

"Right Chris," I grunted, sighing in relief that someone else had made the decision for me; taking Kim's arm and pulling her towards the bathroom as he'd suggested, while the others reluctantly released her, glaring at Chris unhappily for having snatched their fun away.

----------------------

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" I demanded in a loud whisper as I closed the door behind us. "You were letting them strip you."

"You weren't doing anything to stop them," she snapped back, cutting me off as I realised how true that was.

"But Kim," I spluttered, not knowing how to continue.

"So what are we going to do then," Kim demanded, a few short moments later, breaking the silence.

"We should go," I told her. "We should go before anything else happens."

"We don't have to," she answered, keeping her eyes firmly glued downwards towards the floor.

"Don't have to what?" I asked, not sure what she meant, or at least unable to process what she was suggesting.

"We don't have to go," Kim replied, glancing nervously up at me to see how I responded.

"You want to stay Kim?"

"Yes," she answered. "At least I think I do. I'm not sure. We won't if you don't want to."

"But you want to stay," I repeated, the implications astounding me, as did my inner feelings as it hit me that maybe part of me wanted to stay as well.

"Yes Mark. I think I do," my wife mumbled her voice quavering as she spoke. "Can we? Should we?"

"You know what that means?" I questioned her, not truly sure myself, my heart missing a beat as she nodded her head indicating that she did.

"They'll have your bra off Kim," I felt it necessary to spell it out to her. "You'll end up topless."

"I know Mark," she almost sobbed.

"And it might not stop there," I pointed out the obvious. Can you handle that?"

"Yes honey," she answered, frighteningly confident, her eyes never wavering from mine as she said it. "No! Maybe. At least I think so."

I swallowed deeply, gulping for air as the full import of what my wife was asking of me dawned in full. She not only wanted them to get her breasts out, but wanted ....... Wanted ..... I couldn't gather my thoughts enough to express them even to myself.

"Please honey," Kim suddenly seemed to be more sure of what she wanted, having managed to get it out. "Just this once. I'll never get another chance."

"Damn it Kim," I spluttered. "This could get out of hand."

"I know."

"But people like us don't do things like this Kim," I reasoned.

"Doesn't mean I haven't fantasised about it Mark," she started to plead with me. "I think all women do at some stage, but never have the chance to be naked with a group of strange men. Please Mark honey. Please let me."

"But Kim," I protested, my baffled brain beginning to lose the argument, and not knowing what else to say.

"Just this once Mark," Kim went on breathlessly, seeming on the point of tears by then. "I'll never ask again, and I swear I'll find some way of making it up to you."

"Ok," somebody said, though it couldn't have been me, even though the words clearly came from my mouth. I scrambled to suck the words back in again, but of course it was too late, and Kim wrapped her arms around me, showering kisses on me.

"You're sure Mark," she asked, stepping back from me.

"No, not really," I squeaked back. "But just your top off. No further, OK?"

"Agreed, but you won't regret it afterwards will you? You won't let this effect our wonderful marriage?"

"I'll try not," I whispered.

"If you're not sure then we won't do it honey," she offered me an escape from the route we were taking, but promptly cut it off before I could take real advantage of it. "I need you to prove that you mean it."

"Prove that I mean it?"

"Yes Mark," Kim went on suddenly sounding confident again. "I need a sign to prove that you are really Ok with this. I need you to do something."

"Do what?" I stammered, not fully understanding, still probably trying to shake off the effects of all the alcohol I'd consumed that evening.

"Undo my bra," she stated bluntly, staring at me challengingly.

"Undo my bra Mark," she repeated, when I stood there dumbly, trying to gather my wits. "Undo it and send me back in there to them."

"I don't know if I can."

"Of course you can if you love me as much as I love you honey," she encouraged me, turning her back to me to offer me the catch holding her bra together.

"That's it honey, just unsnap it," she urged me, as I nervously reached up to do as requested, jerking back in surprise at how easily it snapped open, and watching in disbelief as it flew apart at the back, the whole thing slumping down and threatening to slip off.

Then Kim turned to face me, the look on her face too close to one of triumph for my comfort, my heart near to bursting as I realised that those beautiful full, half exposed breasts facing me, were about to be shared with others.

"Thanks honey. I do love you," she gushed, and with a blown kiss in my direction, Kim turned on her heels and all too enthusiastically disappeared through the door back into the room where the four of them awaited her.

"Just another ten minutes Kim," I called after her, but I don't think she heard me.

"Just another ten minutes Kim," I wasted my breath with again, whispering it to the door that had closed in my face. "Then we'd better be going."

Shit! What had I done?

-----------------

I couldn't help but hear the exclamations of surprise, and/or joy as Kim emerged from the bathroom, her bare tits half out on display and no doubt her smile promising even more. I stood there rooted to the spot, desperately wanting to rush out to see what was happening, but somehow terrified of doing so, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me.

Eventually of course I did, but things had moved on. Kim's bra was long gone, and her skirt was lying discarded on the floor, her tiny panties offering little in protection from the exploring hands that were by then all over her, her attempts to repel the attempts to pull her panties down, obviously just a temporary gesture of defiance that made the game for them that much sweeter.

They surrounded her, dwarfing her, as she turned back and forward, brushing away the hands that threatened her panties, but having little option but to accept the hands that were exploring elsewhere. It had already gone too far, but Kim was giggling like a schoolgirl, in raptures at the unfamiliar but obviously welcome handling she was receiving.

12
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