After the funeral of a friend, Hugh, Penny and Deni agreed that Trina should be brought to Central Oregon for the first of several weekends of training.
Deni had suggested that we label this collective endeavor “The Taming of the Shrew” after the Shakespearean play by that name. Her idea had set the scene for the weekend. With sage advice from other women, a plan was formulated on how to break her self sense of being “too good” for others.
Hugh picked Trina up at Jon and Trina’s house on Friday evening. She was dressed in jeans and a button-up blouse. She was still resentful of her treatment during her previous date with Hugh.
Hugh was dressed in shorts that were tight enough to allow the shapes of his encased, equipment to be visible. Jon openly looked at his boss’s crotch with envy.
Hugh watched Trina’s eyes glance down at his package, then flush brightly as her eyes guiltily flicked back up to his to see if he had noticed that she checked him out.
Hugh was looking directly at her eyes when they looked back at him. Her flush turned into burning embarrassment at her debasing indiscretion.
Hugh walked over to her, took her head in his hands, and kissed her deeply. He pressed his bulge against her, making certain that she felt his presence against her womanhood. His hands went behind her buttocks, pulling her to his hips.
He released her as soon as he felt her bitchy resolve beginning to weaken.
When Hugh turned back around to say goodbye to his co-worker, Jon had an obvious erection. His eyes were riveted to his wives chest, where her nipples had betrayed her, poking out and obviously aroused. Jon’s eyes were wide, and his breathing was harshly rapid and labored.
“Jon,” Hugh said, “Remove your wife’s bra and panties. Help her put on a short skirt, leave her blouse half unbuttoned, then bring her back to me.”
Hugh turned on his heel, walked into the living room and sat down. He picked up the TV remote and began flipping through the channels.
After a few minutes, Jon and Trina reappeared. Trina could feel the coolness of the air-conditioning on her newly exposed pussy. She hated that it actually felt good to her, to be without her panties was so foreign to her way of thinking that she felt her anger rising. But this feeling! So free! So cool and unrestricted! And her breasts. She could feel them shimmering, wiggling in her blouse, her nipples being caressed by the soft fabric covering them. Trina closed her eyes as she struggled with her conflicting emotions.
Hugh’s libido enjoyed the site of the woman’s unfettered breasts jiggling with each step. Jon led his wife to stand in front of the chair that Hugh’s was sitting in. Her nipples were pebbles in her blouse, totally self conscious of her semi exposed state.
“Raise your wife’s dress and show me her pussy, Jon.” Hugh was still watching the TV screen, ignoring the woman.
Trina spluttered her indignation. “How DARE you treat me like a slut!”
Hugh turned his eyes toward her chest, watching her nipples pressing against the fabric of her blouse. Jon, without even hesitating, raised Trina’s dress and showed Hugh his wife’s bare sex.
Hugh leaned forward in his chair and told Jon to open his wife’s cunt for him to look at.
This time Trina was absolutely speechless. Jon reached between her legs and spread her pussy lips open for Hugh’s viewing pleasure. Hugh put his finger under her little opening and waited patiently for the glistening drop of her wetness to drip onto his finger tip. When it did, he wiped it onto her lips, explaining that the moisture was her own cunt betraying her.
Trina turned crimson with embarrassment.
Hugh looked at Jon and told him to bring his wife out to the car. Hugh then strode out the front door and down the walk to his car, and unceremoniously got in.
Jon grabbed Trina’s bags and followed his own wife out to the car of the man that was going to take her away for the weekend. Jon’s cock had never been so hard.
He opened the car door for his wife. It made him feel so submissive and vulnerable to think about how he was helping his wife go for the weekend with another man. In his excitement, he wondered if there was any possibility that she would conceive this weekend.
He hoped she wouldn’t, because he wanted his wife to become accustomed to going-out with other men. He wanted her to like it, and to begin to date and have sex with lots of virile sexy males. Jon’s cock twitched uncontrollably, pulsing rigidly erect under his trousers, as he fantasized about his wife, gorgeous in her nakedness, her thighs widely spread, and man after man filling her pussy with their virile sperm.
Jon tried to open the trunk lid in order to put Trina’s three suitcases inside. The trunk was, of course, locked.
Trina self consciously settled into the passenger seat next to Hugh, forcing herself not to furtively glance at his crotch. She felt the subconscious need to put her hand on his manhood, to test its size, to finally touch what was intended to impregnate her.
Hugh drove away, leaving Jon standing there with three suitcases, waving frantically to get Hugh’s attention. Trina did not notice that her beast-of-burden husband had been unsuccessful in stowing her essential luggage in Hugh’s car. Her tennis ball sized breasts waggled a bit, jiggling with each bump in the road. She felt extremely self conscious about her breasts being so exposed. She tried to re-button her blouse without appearing to do so.
Hugh noticed her movements, and immediately pulled over to the side of the road, then leaned over and cut the three felonious buttons from her blouse, leaving Jon’s wife unable to cover her vulnerable beauty for the rest of the weekend.
Trina’s shocked and resentful eyes glared at Hugh even as her nipples hardened beneath the caressing fabric of her blouse.
Hugh smiled at her, then drove off again toward Central Oregon . . . . . and Deni.
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