The meal Jess served up was - edible. That was the best I could come up with, it was also bland, cold and greasy.

Mike and I tried to get a conversation going, our hosts were clearly incapable of it but we just kept hitting a wall of monosyllabic replies. Jess hardly spoke a word, just kept staring down at her plate, her curly hair hiding her face, I wondered if she was crying. John seemed to be struggling to contain a simmering anger, I very much got the impression they had had a huge row before we arrived.

I moved the food around, drank too much of the local white wine, I was getting a real taste for German wine, it was not at all like the Black Tower or Liebfraumilch we got at home, and it was potent stuff, I could never get used to the way the locals often drank it though: Heated and drenched in sugar. I was waiting to make the signal, we had discussed it prior to leaving home, "we need to check on Katyana." That would be the signal to call the au pair, learn there was some problem with the kids, and make our excuses.

I held off though, Mike would be disappointed and probably sulk at me, it would be a lot better if he decided this night was just not going to happen. It would hardly be the first time an apparently eager couple got cold feet on the night. I would not have agreed to even try if Jess had not personally begged me, I thought her chronically shy, she always wore this bizarre white pancake makeup, like a Japanese Geisha, and tagged along like John's pet, silent and avoiding eye contact. The plain fact was I felt sorry for her, living in a foreign country with no skill in the language was bad enough, being effectively cut off from the support of the other exiles would make it unbearable. She never came to our weekend parties that were becoming a tradition, John did, but there was always some careless excuse why she did not.

I could not see the attraction Mike had formed for her, apart from the strange makeup she dressed in loose clothes, baggy, uninteresting, not at all like the tall, leggy amazons he tended to lust after. John was - well army! All the ex army guys were pretty much the same, loud, self-confident, and fit. Oh yes, he was fit, in both meanings of the word, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist and a nice tight bum I had to keep reminding myself not to stare at when he was diving into the pool.

John had approached Mike first, the men constantly thought they arranged these things, silly boys. I had slapped down the idea at once, Jess could never have agreed to it, I would not believe it. Now if John had come to me and suggested a one on one, or better yet a threesome, things would have been very different. That was wishful thinking though, although the Navy guys were comfortable with two men and a woman in bed (a result of their living conditions at sea perhaps) the army and the air force wanted to prove what studs they were with two women to themselves.

But then Jess called me, at first I had no idea who was on the phone, I had never heard more that a low whisper from her before. "I am just calling to let you know John and I discussed it, but I will understand if you are not interested."

I had prevaricated, it was too easy to assume that by now all the ex-pats on the project were in on the secret, even if they did not want any of it. "Discussed what, Jess?" I replied.

Her voice did drop to a whisper then. "The other parties."

I was silent, since she did not come to the normal parties even how would she know about the private ones? "You see," she broke my silence. "That night, when a few of us stayed at Dave and June's, Dave walked in on me and John, he was..." She drew a deep breath. "He had no clothes on. He was very embarrassed, said he had got the wrong bedroom. He went back out, but he left our door open, we could see him, opening the door opposite, looking in, and then he went in, and we heard, well we heard!"

I felt myself blushing, four couples had stayed over that night, had Dave blundered into them all before he found us? No wonder the rumors had started!

Against my better judgement I discussed it with Mike, and he was eager, perhaps he viewed Jess as some kind of challenge?

Now I kept trying to catch his eye, but he was deliberately avoiding it, knowing what I wanted, I was growing irritated at this farce, losing any interest I had had for it.

Abruptly John stood up, almost knocking his chair back. Jess looked up then, she was not crying, but even under the thick white mask it looked as though she was about to burst into sobs. John ignored her and held out a large hand to me. "Let me show you around."

Mike did meet my eyes then, and he raised an eyebrow, as if to tell me if I wanted out now would be a good moment, but he still did not say the exit phrase and my irritation had stirred up the stobborn streak in me, why should I get the blame for spoiling the night?

The big strong hand buried mine but he was gentle as he helped me up, I kept hold of my glass in the other, finished it in a long swallow that sent heat baking all through me. I looked at Jess, expecting her to kick off, explode this ill thought out match, but her expression was very odd, almost demonic.

John half pulled me from the table, I had to watch my feet, I really had had too much wine, the high heels felt very unstable. He took us straight to the stairs, broad, polished wood steps leading up to what I was still sure was going to be a disaster, but a fluttering in my stomach was mixing up the wine there, and I did not hesitate to follow him up, eyes on that firm bum, wondering what it would feel like sliding between the silk stockings I had bought specifically for that purpose.

I did not get the tour, John seemed indecently in haste, leading the way to a neat but rather bare bedroom. I knew at once it had to be the guest room and halted in the door. John tried to pull me in but I held fast, short of his yanking me roughly he was forced to stop and turn to me, his expression one of puzzled impatience.

"Why are we not using your room?" I asked, hearing a slight slurring, he would probably think it was the wine, but it was really mostly excitement.

"Jess will be sleeping there," he told me, as if it was obvious.

I doubted Mike would allow much sleeping. "You mean we are not all..." I made a swirling gesture with my finger, a mixing motion.

John looked shocked and dropped my hand. "Of course not!" He retorted.

"Of course not," I repeated. I was not so much surprised at the idea of separate bedrooms as I was at his rather prudish reaction to idea of all of us sharing a room. I heeled the door closed, it was a fair bet if four in a bed shocked him that the Door Game we played sometimes with other guests would not appeal at all.

John was still just stood, watching me. Taking a hint I slowly started at the top and worked down my button through dress until I slipped it back off my shoulders and stood in white silk stockings, see through panties, G-string and a half cup lace bra. I was clean shaved all over, I mean all over, I was getting used to what the boys wanted.

John did not move, I stepped up to him and started on the buttons of his shirt, but he grabbed my wrists, rather hard. "Let's just sit down a bit," he pleaded.

We sat on the bed, I was uncomfortably aware I was in heat and the scent of me was not being contained by my thin

panties. John though sat rigid, he ignored the hand I sent questing over one of his thighs. "It is not you," he said suddenly. "It is just not right, I love my wife."

I stared at him in disbelief, then stood up, shaking with humiliation, picked up my dress. "You came to us!" I hissed at him in dreadful fury, rejection reducing me to spitting as I spoke, this was what I got for making the first move!

"I cannot do it," John said miserably.

"Fine," I retorted. "It was just supposed to be a bit of fun, we are all a long way from home, we need to live a little! What the hell possessed you to think you wanted this?" I was struggling with my dress, I could not get it the right way round, the sleeves kept coming up inside out.

"I didn’t," John said miserable. "I never wanted to, Jess made me, she said she would leave me if I did not."

The mocking laughter died on my lips. My God, he was serious! That white mouse, that shy Japanese doll, had bullied this hunk of a soldier into having sex with me? Rage chased away most of the humiliation. "Well I am so sorry you got the booby prize!" I snarled. "So sorry I disgust you so much you cannot even bear to have me touch you, Faugh!" I punched my arms into the dress, did up some of the buttons with trembling hands, yanked open the door and shouted. "Mike, we are going!"

The nearest bedroom door was wide open and the lights full on. I stopped, gaping. Jess was stood on an elaborate bed, bouncing like it was a trampoline, stark naked. And now the baggy clothes made sense, she was stacked! I am no twiggy with 38D breasts, but her balloons had to be at least 44 and they were flopping about so hard as she bounced she was in serious danger of knocking herself out with them. She too was clean shaved and showed a white butterfly tattooed between belly and mound, wow, that must have hurt getting it done! Laughing fit to burst she was watching Mike undress clumsily, neither had heard me or were aware of my presence. I felt John come up behind me, looking over my shoulder, heard his hard intake of breath.

Naked Mike climbed on the bed with her, tried to catch each big boob in hand, they slopped and slapped as she continued to jump. Then she saw me and John in the door and stopped, held her boobs up invitingly and Mike willingly put his head down in them. Grinning like a mad woman Jess knelt, pulling Mike down with her, then she pulled free, pushed him down onto the bed, slipped off and came up to us, boobs jiggling and swaying. She blew me a little kiss, leered at John, then slammed the door in our faces, we both clearly heard the loud click of a lock.

John made a lunge for the door but I blocked him. "Leave it," I advised him. From within came a delighted female laugh which trailed off to a soft cry of delight.

"What is he doing to my wife!" John demanded in bewildered outrage.

"I would show you, but you are not interested." I retorted in anger. The sounds from the bedroom were ramping up to shrieks and moans. The bitch was getting my share! "Come on downstairs, I need a drink."

"I am not leaving them in there, doing... Doing that!"

"What you going to do, break the door down?" I challenged. To my alarm I saw he was considering exactly that. "Come away now, where you cannot hear them."

"You!" He rounded on me. "That is your husband in there, tell him to come out!"

I thought about it. "No," I decided. I could not take the risk he would refuse, where would that leave our relationship?

"You bitch!" He snarled at me. "You two, you are disgusting, you put this idea in her head!"

"Oh calm down, Vicar," I sighed. "He is hardly forcing her, is he?"

But John's face was contorted with rage, not helped by the loud creaking of the bed which had joined the vocal sounds, and I doubted it was caused by Jess playing trampoline again. He grabbed my wrist and pounded on the door with his other. "Come out, or your wife will get the same!"

Male and female laughter mocked him. "That was kind of the idea," I reminded him pityingly.

He glared from the door to me, back again, then suddenly tightened his hold on my wrist and pulled me back to the spare bedroom, I made a show of struggling, but the excitement was flaring up, the night was getting interesting again!

The spare room was like a drum to the sounds of the abused bed next door and a duet of moans, the sounds fanned my own desires and I made no resistance when John shoved me to fall back on the bed, scrambled up onto me and pinned down my wrists. "Scream," he hissed, his face against mine. "Scream loud!"

"Make me!" I challanged, gasping.

He let go my wrists, the buttons of my dress flew in all directions as he tore it apart, then strung the dress through the iron bedhead and lashed my wrists to it. Breathing hard he pulled down my bra and bit at my sensitive nipples. I obliged him then, genuinly screaming at the heady mix of pain and pleasure. The expensive panties were torn free and he fumbled with his trousers, I made a show of resisting, kicking him, he grabbed my ankles, pulled them up and wide and with a solid grunt bucked hard up into me.

I felt my eyes roll back as he jammed into me with brute force, determined and intentionally forcing his prick into my channel, tearing it open to receive him. His teeth bit at my nipples again and I twisted and howled in pure ecstasy.

He wanted screams and he got them, his hips bucked wildly, punching mine down into the mattress, when my nipples were numbed by bites he burned hickeys into my throat until I howled. Every time he came he pulled out of me to spray me with it, in my hair, my face, on my breasts and belly, then his fingers would plunge and ravage me until he was ready to ram his hardening prick back up into me. Each time I felt sure he was exhausted, lying on me, his breath on my abused nipples, muscles relaxing, the sounds next door would start up again, the energetic rythm of raw sex and the song of voices that accompanied it, and John would growl, lift himself up, and use his body to assault mine yet again.

At three in the morning it went quiet next door, the sounds of heavy sleep clear through the thin wall. John got off me, stood looking down at me, nodded at his handiwork and left without so much as a thank you or excuse me.

I heard his rap sharply on the master bedroom door and then his soft steps going down the stairs. After a pause Mike came in, blurry eyed, his chest and sides ripped open and bleeding, but not seeming to mind. He goggled at me, taking in the makeshift rope, the dried patches of cum everywhere, teeth marks on my breasts, throat and belly down to my thighs. "Good grief, Snoopy, you look like you went ten rounds with a leopard! You okay?"

"Fine," I grinned lazilly, deliciously satisfied. "How was madam Butterfly?"

"Always the quiet ones," he grinned. "And she is big on alternate means of entry, if you follow me!"

"I do," I sniffed. "But don't get any ideas on that score with me. What are you doing?"

"Untying you!"

I wriggled. "Leave it alone!"

He sat on the bed, trailing his fingers over me, bringing me back to the simmer. "You stink of cum," he noted cheerfully.

"That bother you?"

His head went down between my legs, I drew up my knees and whined with pleasure. "Not a bit!"

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