Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2007 18:17:52 +0100 (BST) From: slut Subject: gay-sauna 4 Standing there in the grope room, one of his hands gripping my cock and the other my hair, I sensed a stillness around us. The watchers by the door had paused in their wanking, waiting to see what was about to happen. The one on the floor who had been playing with my arse and cock was looking up expectantly. The man in front of me looked down at his spit sliding over my nipple and smiled. He spat again, this time at my face and I felt it hit m upper lip. "Lick it off, cunt," he ordered, giving my cock a hard squeeze for emphasis. I poked out my tongue and licked his spit off my lip and swallowed. He laughed. "You dirty little slut," he taunted me as he let go my cock and my hair. "A filthy cunt. And you're my filthy cunt, aren't you?" "Yes, sir," I responded. "Tell me." "I'm your filthy cunt, sir." He spat again, downwards onto my cock. "Show me," he said, le. "Down on the floor and lick my feet." Conscious of the eyes watching me, witnessing my degradation, I got down flat on the floor on my stomach. His bare feet were in front of my face. I licked across the top of one, and then the other. "Are you married, cunt?" he asked from above me. "Yes, sir." "The slut here in town with you?" "She's out for the evening with a couple of friends, sir," I answered truthfully. "Most likely looking for some cock to fuck her," he said with a laugh. "Eh, cunt?" I swallowed and licked my dry lips. "Yes, sir," I managed to say, reddening. "I bet she is. A total slut just like her hubby. I'm looking forward to meeting her." He looked down and kicked me lightly on the shoulder. "Stand up, cunt." I climbed back onto my feet, trying not to look at all the faces watching from the door. Concentrating on the man in front of me, as if my humiliation would be somehow contained if I only acknowledged him. "What's she look like, cunt?" he asked. "Tall, sir," I said. "And slim. Long dark hair." "More detail, cunt," he demanded. "I don't want to know what anybody could see just by looking at her. Tell me what the slut looks like naked. Her tits, cunt, any distinguishing marks." I hesitated, but then realised that my cock had become rock hard at the thought of describing my wife intimately to these strangers. I was learning new things about myself, and not with all of them was I yet comfortable. But I knew now I wanted degradation, and this was a part of it. "Small tits, sir," I said. "Very firm. Brown nipples." He looked down at my rampant cock and laughed again. "You're enjoying this, you pathetic little perv," he said. He gave my cock a slap, making it swing from side to side. "Thinking about us all fucking your slut of a wife, are you? Fucking you in front of her, and then filling all her holes with cock while you watch helpless? Tell us about her cunt. Shaved? Tight or floppy?" The men from the doorway had moved closer, four of them. They formed a rough circle around me now. And I felt a wet tongue licking my arse cheek. The one who had been on the floor, getting back into the action. "Not shaved, sir," I said. "She's very hairy down there." "Down there?" he repeated with derision. "What's with down there? Did I ask you about down there, bitch?" "No, sir," I responded quickly. "She has a very hairy cunt, sir. A tight cunt." "Tattoos? Marks?" "A small tattoo of a yellow bird on her left arse cheek, sir. And she has a scar at the very top of her right thigh from a biking accident when she was a girl." A heavy silence descended as he stood there grinning at me. One small part of me wondered why I had told him all this, why I hadn't, at the very least, lied. But it was the part of me that was trying to deny the truth. He had been perfectly right, and the evidence of my aroused cock was the proof even if I hadn't already known it from the gut-wrenching excitement inside as I revealed these intimate details of my wife. I had enjoyed it, and the thoughts to which it led. And the fact that, unknown to her, these men, these strangers, now knew these things about her. "When did you last fuck her?" he asked. "And how?" "Last night, sir." I answered. "In the hotel room." It had been early in the evening, before we went out to have dinner. She had just showered, and had come out of the en suite naked and drying her hair. I had been on the bed in just my briefs, and they had not been anywhere near capable of hiding my erection at the sight of her trim body. She had noticed at once, and had come over and climbed on to the bed with her legs on either side of my head. Reaching down she had lifted my face and pushed it into her pussy. Eagerly I had tongued her until she was ready to move down my body and pull down my pants to impale herself on my cock. She had ridden me until she had come, and hen climbed off the bed and finished me off by hand. With a dry mouth that made it hard to et out the words, I described all this to the listening men. He leaned in towards me. "Sounds a hot little slut," he said. "And what's she going to think when I tell her all this? What's she going to say when I tell her how I know?" He laughed and leaned back again. "Let's have some real fun with this cock-sucking bitch," he announced to our little audience.