How was our visit?

I don't remember exactly what occasion Andrey had gathered so many guests for; I think we were celebrating his housewarming. Somehow it turned out that most of the invited singles and couples were strangers to me, probably Andryukha's colleagues from his new job.

About three hours after the start, when everyone was already pretty drunk, Andrey and I went out to smoke on the stairwell. A few guys—his friends—joined us. The conversation, of course, turned to women. Some of Andryukha's friends had come alone, some with wives or girlfriends, but they all started asking him, as the organizer who knew all the guests, which of the girls present could be "picked up."

It was clear they were talking more for show, not planning anything real, but Andrey still started telling something about some slutty friend of his wife's. And at that moment, a very excited guy, known to everyone except me—Sasha—approached us.

"Guys, you won't believe it!" he began to tell with a laugh, lighting a cigarette, "Some chick got so wasted she dragged me into the bathroom herself and gave it up! I didn't even have time to ask her name!"

"Well, that's probably Vika—I was just talking about her, my wife's friend—a total fucking slut!" said Andrey, "A curvy blonde, right?"

"No, dark-haired, skinny... I haven't seen her at your place before. Can you imagine, we danced for a couple of minutes, she grabbed my sleeve and into the bathroom. Locked the door, hands under her skirt, took off her panties, turned her ass to me, and bent over doggy-style herself—her tits right on the washing machine!"

"Well, what did you do?"—the eyes of everyone present literally lit up with curiosity and excitement.

"Pulled up her skirt and stuck it in! She started grinding like that, I came in a minute!"

"What, without a condom?"

"Where would I get a condom, in the bathroom? Probably shot half a glass into her!" Sasha proudly finished his story, "It ran right down her legs in streams when I pulled out."

"Why didn't you ask her name?"

"Why would I ask the name of such a whore? Fucked and forgot!" Sasha guffawed, "I came out of the bathroom and to you—to smoke. And she's probably still wiping herself off in there."

"You're not bullshitting us, you fucking terrorist?" Andrey thought, "I still don't get who that was?"

"I'm bullshitting?!" Sashka got indignant, "Here, look, I wiped my dick with her panties!"

He pulled crumpled panties from his pocket, and I immediately understood who that slut was.

"He's not lying," I took the panties from Sasha, they were wet from female discharge and his cum, "Her name is Natasha."

"How did you figure out it was some Natasha? An acquaintance of yours or something?"

"I recognized the panties," I put them in my pocket, "I gave them to her myself!"

"Fuck, Dimon," it dawned on Andrey, "So that's your Natasha or what?"

I nodded.

"Guys," Andrey started giggling, "She's not his acquaintance, she's his wife!"

Everyone present stared at me with surprise and disbelief.

"Dima, well, you know, sorry!" Sasha mumbled, "I didn't know... Honest—she came onto me herself!"

"Sanyok, don't apologize!" Andrey put an arm around his shoulders, "They have an open relationship, and Natasha is a natural slut—fucks everyone. Before I got married, I'd drop by their place every other day—Dimon and I would double-team her. And when she's drunk, she can give it to a whole crowd."

"No fucking way!" Sashka was just stunned, "I thought that only happens in movies!"

"Andrey, well, you don't have to tell everyone the details!" I grumbled discontentedly.

"Dima, so if you don't mind, maybe Natasha could give us a quick one too?" the guys hopefully awaited my answer.

"Well, try to persuade her if you want," I waved the intimate piece of her clothing in the air, "She's already without panties, ready for anything..."

"Guys, I know Natasha well," Andrey intervened, "She liked Sashka—that's why she gave it to him right away. But if we all approach her as a group now, she'll definitely send us packing..."

"So no chance?"

"We need Dimka himself to ask her," Andrey turned to me, "Persuade Natasha to give my friends a treat! I'll owe you a big one later."

"Alright, I'll talk to her," I yielded to my friend's request, "But, guys, if Natasha agrees, no extra people involved in this!"

I returned to the apartment, called Natasha away from the table where she was already drinking with someone, and discussed the situation with her. Then went back out to the stairwell.

"So, guys," I began, "Natasha, even though she's already drunk, doesn't want to fuck anyone else, and won't..."

I enjoyed the sight of disappointed faces and continued.

"...but she'll service everyone with her mouth!"

The guys' reaction was so stormy that Andrey and I got scared the wives would come running at the noise.

We agreed that for secrecy, we'd all return to the table, sit, have a drink. Then Natasha and I would go out "to smoke" and go to another floor—to the nook by the garbage chute, which has doors. And Andrey would stay at the table and "direct" the guys—who and when to go out "to smoke," so that the wives and girlfriends wouldn't suspect anything.

Half an hour later, my beloved wife was already kneeling on a more or less clean piece of cardboard I'd laid out for her, giving a blowjob to the first volunteer. I stood by the door "on lookout"—watching through a small window to make sure no outsiders appeared. For that case, we had cigarettes and a lighter ready—so if any of the girls from our company showed up, we could quickly pretend to be having an innocent smoke break.

The guy was stroking Natasha's head, touching her breasts, but through her blouse and bra it was awkward for him. I suggested he tell Natasha to take off her top. He nodded, took his dick out of her mouth, and ordered her to undress.

Natasha stood up, took off her blouse, I helped her unclasp and remove her bra, and she quickly knelt back down in front of the guy. After that, both of the guy's hands were busy with her tits.

Another couple of minutes later, the guy asked me to light a cigarette for him, which I did. And when the second volunteer sent by Andrey arrived, he saw a vulgar but very arousing picture: Natasha, dressed only in shoes and a skirt, kneeling and diligently sucking off a guy who was holding a smoking cigarette in one hand, taking drags periodically, and with the other hand pressing on the back of her head, pushing her mouth deeper onto his dick, while her husband (i.e., me) stood nearby as a coat rack, because her blouse, bra, and panties were hanging on my arm.

The first one finished his cigarette right "in the process," came in Natasha's mouth, and asked me to give him something to wipe his dick, nodding at Natasha's wardrobe items I was still holding because there was nowhere to put them. I offered him her panties, which Sasha had already used for that anyway.

"Thanks, Dimon!" the guy patted me on the shoulder and stuffed the already quite wet with cum panties into my shirt pocket, "Your wife sucks great!"

"You're welcome! But tell Andryukha to send everyone he planned faster, otherwise Natasha won't finish here until late evening."

The guy nodded and left the vestibule.

The second guy, apparently very aroused by the situation, without any questions or ceremonies, grabbed Natasha, who had stood up to stretch her legs, by the hair and rather roughly put her back on her knees. Quickly pulled out his dick, shoved it into my wife's mouth, and started fucking her throat hard. Natasha gagged with saliva but obediently endured such treatment—when she's drunk, she's incapable of saying "no!" to a man. He came very quickly from that pace and depth of penetration.

Taking his dick out of my wife's mouth, he gestured for me to come closer and, without asking permission, snatched her panties from me, wiped his dick with them, then her lips, which had cum on them. Showing such care, he returned the panties to me and left, promising to hurry the next one.

The third one appeared a few minutes later and turned out to be very polite—apologized for the delay (couldn't get away from his wife), asked Natasha if she was tired from kneeling, and promised to come quickly. And when Natasha took it in her mouth, he at first didn't even dare push deeper. But then he got into it and fucked her mouth to the hilt. After coming deep in her throat, he pressed his pubic bone to Natasha's face and held her head like that as long as she had breath.

The last from the original "smokers" group was that very Sashka, with whom it all started. Natasha and I were surprised—after all, he had already fucked her. But Sasha said he wanted to give it to her in the mouth too.

"Can you come a second time?" asked Natasha, kneeling before Sasha, "Because I haven't been able to close my mouth for a whole hour already."

"Well, that depends on how hard you try," Sashka unzipped his jeans and literally dumped his big dick onto my wife's face...

When he came about ten minutes later, I asked him to find out from Andrey if everyone who wanted had been "serviced" by Natasha, and if so, we'd return to the table.

Natasha finally got to stretch her legs, which had gone numb from kneeling so long. She remained in just her shoes and skirt, and I still held the rest of her clothes. My wife and I were discussing the four blowjobs she'd given, and at that moment I saw through the little window in the door that three guys were coming towards us at once, lighting cigarettes on the go.

"Natash, there are three at once," I sympathetically spread my hands.

"Has Andrey completely lost his mind?!" Natasha exclaimed irritably but still laid the cardboard back on the floor, which she had moved to the wall earlier, "Am I supposed to just snack on cum at his housewarming?"

The guys came in and stared at Natasha in surprise—apparently not expecting everything to be so pragmatic—a half-naked stranger's wife, ready at the first word to "service" all of Andrey's guests.

"Guys, just make it quick, and I'll go to Andryukha for now—warn him to stop sending such delegations to Natasha!" I shoved my wife's clothes into the hands of one of the guys, left the vestibule, and turning around, managed to see through the window that Natasha was already habitually kneeling on her cardboard...

Andrey had gotten even drunker in that time, and I thought that's why he stopped properly performing his dispatcher duties—sent three at once, ruining all secrecy. I scolded him for it and asked how many more volunteers were left. But this drunk couldn't understand what I wanted from him, so I led him to "Natasha's floor" to hurry up the last trio and end our guest "service" event.

On the floor, Andrey and I were met with an unpleasant surprise for me—instead of the agreed blowjobs, Natasha was being fucked full program! She was standing on straight legs, bent over at 90 degrees. One of the guys was positioned behind her, having pulled up her skirt, while the other two, standing by her head, took turns shoving their dicks into her mouth.

Seeing me, Natasha seized a moment when the dicks in her mouth were being switched and managed to complain:

"Dima, why are they fucking me in the ass? We didn't agree on that," she wanted to say more, but the guy shut her mouth with his thick dick.

"Andrey," I turned to my friend, who was looking at the guys in surprise, "Didn't you tell them to only give it to Natasha in the mouth?"

"Dimon, who are these guys? I'm seeing them for the first time," Andrey even sobered up from the awkwardness of the situation, "Hey, guys! Where are you from? And why are you fucking our girl?"

Two guys kept fucking my wife, one from behind, according to her—in the ass (we couldn't see that), the other—in the mouth. And the third turned to us and joined the conversation.

"Who are you guys anyway? Since when is this chick yours? This is our floor, we came out to smoke, and this one was here," the guy pointed at me, "And a naked chick! The guy left, she got on her knees herself, unzipped me, and started sucking."

"First of all, she's not a chick, she's my wife," I got indignant, "That's why she's ours! And secondly, well, she took it in her mouth, but why are you fucking her in the ass?"

"Your wife?" the guy's aggressiveness vanished from surprise, "For real? Then why did you leave her here like that for us?"

"Not for you he left her!" Andrey intervened, "He left Natasha with my guests, well, that is, he thought you were my guests... Ugh, you won't understand anyway!"

From our talking, the guy who was fucking Natasha in the mouth stopped, pulled out his dick, and even stepped back a bit. But the second one kept fucking her in the ass and, without stopping, asked:

"Guys, since it turned out this way, let me finish!"

"Dima, Andrey," Natasha spoke up, still standing doggy-style, "Let him just finish faster and get off. Hey! What's your name?" Natasha turned her head to look at the guy fucking her, "Come right in the ass, otherwise you'll pull out early and smear me all over."

"My name's Oleg," the guy introduced himself, "Guys, maybe you could step out? I can't with you here..."

Oleg's two friends, Andrey, and I left the vestibule and lit up. Through the window, I saw Oleg increase the pace, and Natasha even started grinding back. Andrey told the guys how this situation came about, got acquainted with them—one lived on this floor, the other two were visiting him. Of course, seeing that Natasha didn't refuse Oleg, the guys asked me to let them finish too, because they also hadn't come yet. I replied that I didn't mind, but needed to ask my wife.

"Dima!" Natasha called me from behind the door, and when I looked in, she asked, "Give Oleg something to wipe with."

I took her long-suffering panties from the guy who had Natasha's clothes and brought them to Oleg. He pulled his dick out of my wife's ass, wiped it, and handed the panties back to me. But there were already traces from her ass on them, and I threw them near the garbage chute. Oleg left the vestibule.

"Why did you throw them away?" Natasha, still standing doggy-style, got indignant, "When I straighten up now, cum will run down my legs from my ass and pussy! I would have wiped with them and then thrown them away!"

"Let it run, you