A new day and new achievements.

Hearing my wife's confession and my subsequent declaration of love, Inna looked at me in surprise, then threw an angry glance at my wife.

"Sit down and eat, please! Everyone to their own place. The last one to finish eats washes the dishes."

Inna and I plopped down on our chairs and watched with interest as my wife tried to position herself over the cone standing on her stool. My wife didn't immediately realize she couldn't sit down with the bottle in her vagina, which she seemed to have gotten so used to that she forgot about it. Pulling out the bottle with a sucking sound, shiny with vaginal lubrication, she placed it on the windowsill. From the open vagina

fluid that had been held inside by the bottle began to flow down her thighs. My wife reached for napkins to wipe these streams, but Inna barked at her: "Just sit down, you bitch."

I tried to encourage my wife: "Come on, be brave, my dear."

My wife gradually straightened her back, transferring her weight to that treacherous point of support, trying to keep most of her weight on her tightly clenched legs. Inna watched this balancing act with a smile.

While we ate, my wife tried to control her position in space so as not to sit fully on the cone. But the fatigue from constantly tense legs and the distraction of eating did their job, and my wife gradually settled onto the cone. Because of all this, my wife finished eating last and had to stay to wash the dishes.

Before leaving the kitchen, Inna walked up behind my wife and, saying: "And why are you clenching up like a virgin?", spread my wife's legs wide apart with a jerk. My wife cried out, sinking a couple of centimeters onto the cone. Inna, leaning all her weight on her shoulders, whispered mockingly:

"Relax, girlfriend. You wanted this. And we'll go prepare a surprise for you now."

In the sports corner, I tied ropes to the horizontal bar, from which a swing for my wife would be made. Inna brought the devices I had made for our complicated amusements.

Inna and I kissed passionately, undressing each other and anticipating the pleasure we would receive today. Then my wife approached. And now the three of us kissed, enjoying each other. So, in the rhythm of a waltz, we moved to the sofa.

They laid me down on the sofa and began to caress my cock with two mouths, periodically interrupting for kisses, sometimes kissing with my cockhead between their tongues.

I lay down on the sofa and pulled my wife to me. Kissing her on the lips, I positioned her so that her vagina was above my face. I looked into the open hole of the vagina between the dangling labia and wanted to crawl inside it entirely. I remembered a friend who said: "Men are interesting creatures. They crawled out of a pussy and then try to crawl back in their whole lives."

I inserted my palm into the vagina and rocked it from side to side, confirming the obvious—this pussy would never be the same again. And I liked that.

I raised my head, kissed the clitoris, clamping it with my lips, and pulled it, lowering my head onto the sofa. My wife moaned with pleasure, throwing her head back. Then I pulled her closer so I could reach the hole with my tongue without straining my neck. I wanted to taste her. I ran my wide tongue between the lips, along the hole, all the way to the clitoris and felt the taste of only freshly washed skin. It turns out my wife didn't just wash the dishes. "Well, I don't play like that," I thought.

I began to suck on the labia alternately, penetrate the vaginal hole with my tongue, tease and suck the clitoris, pulling on it. My hands at this time were kneading and stroking my wife's erect, tender tits. They pulled and twisted, squeezing the nipples. My wife moaned and arched, writhing her whole body, pressing her vagina tighter against my mouth. Juices flowed from her vagina, the taste of which drove me crazy. At this time, Inna, having stopped sucking my cock, seeing that I wasn't reacting to her efforts, straddled my cock and rode towards an orgasm. She tilted my wife's head towards her and they kissed fiercely, as if competing to see who would devour whom. And my wife experienced her long-awaited orgasm, almost breaking my neck with her thighs. A stream of her juices simply poured from her vagina, which I couldn't lick up fast enough, and they smeared across my face. I penetrated with my tongue to the very bottom of the vagina, touching the cervix, which intensified my wife's orgasm. My lower jaw completely, up to my neck, sank into the vaginal hole. At some point, my wife suddenly went limp and began to fall to the side. Inna, holding her, allowed her to slide off me and lie down next to me, grumbling:

"Well, there you go, you got what you fought for. Now it's my turn."

Inna positioned herself over my mouth. Her perineum was well moistened, as she was already very aroused and teased by my cock.

Inna's taste is very different from my wife's taste. They are complete opposites. My wife is small and quiet, if not provoked. Easily influenced. Ignited by an idea and enthusiastically striving for it. Inna is tall, an athlete, purposeful and persistent, with a tough character. My wife is light-haired, Inna is a brunette. So is the taste. My wife is sweet and sour, Inna is neutral-sweetish.

After pleasuring Inna with my mouth and tormenting her tits, I brought her to orgasm too. Not as strong as my wife's, for which she was clearly offended. And my wife would pay for that.

Inna grabbed my wife's hair, lifted her head, and, looking into her eyes, hissed:

"What are you doing, you hole, sprawling out? You have to earn your pleasure. Your husband still hasn't come, and you're lying around doing nothing. Suck, bitch. And swallow every last drop. Otherwise, you'll regret it. For every missed drop, there will be a separate punishment. As many drops, as many hours."

My wife began to suck my cock. Inna, deciding that my wife was doing it without proper enthusiasm, grabbed her by the hair and began to impale her on the cock. Without mercy, all the way to the balls, trying to hold her there. Although my wife had been training her throat, forcibly, she hadn't yet reached the necessary level and therefore began to choke, gasp, and experience gag reflexes. And naturally, when I came in her mouth, the semen flowed both from her mouth and through her nose. She tried to swallow something, but it didn't change the overall picture.

Inna, looking at this with a smile, drawled:

"Wow, you really hit the jackpot. You just hit the jackpot."

After washing each other in the shower, we returned to our sports area.

To start, we laid my wife on the bench of the exercise machine and fastened her labia minora with clamps to ropes tied around the lower part of her thigh, about 15 centimeters above the knee. The stretched labia began to resemble a badminton shuttlecock. And inside this shuttlecock, a tempting depth. I couldn't resist and penetrated this depth with my hand. I love feeling the tender flesh of the vagina. My mind is blown by the sight of stretched labia near my elbow. I drove my fist to the bottom of the vagina and jerked my hand completely out and then sharply drove it back in. My wife got aroused and began to moan. The vagina began to make squelching sounds, and when I tore my hand out of it, splashes flew in all directions. I inserted my other hand and began to methodically move both hands up and down, trying to spread them as wide as possible. Inna spread my wife's legs almost into a split, causing the lips tied to her thighs to almost tear. I even began to wish they would tear in the area of the clitoral hood, leaving the clitoral head exposed. Taking my hands out of the vagina, I spread them with all my might, trying to stretch, to open the vaginal entrance. Inna, watching this, also became overexcited. Sitting on my wife's face, she rubbed her perineum over it, smearing her juices.

Then Inna declared that she also wanted to participate in this and, lifting my wife's legs behind her ears, sat on top. Because of this, her hands were free, and my wife's pelvis was raised, and the vagina became a hole facing upward. The angle of entry into the vagina changed, and I began to press and pull my wife's perineum, and Inna began trying to push her palm inside the vagina towards my hands. She didn't succeed at first.

First, she pushed her four fingers from above, in the clitoral area. But when I took my hands out, I pushed her fingers out too. Then she began to grasp the pubic bone with her palm to keep her fingers in place. But I still moved them. And it turned out as if Inna was revving a motorcycle. Because Inna was pressing the clitoris against the pubic bone and rubbing it back and forth, and also reaching the notorious G-spot with her fingers, a hurricane-like orgasm began in my wife. If Inna hadn't been sitting with her vagina on my wife's face, probably all the neighbors would have come running.

During the orgasm, the vagina began to pulsate quite strongly, and Inna finally pushed her entire palm inside the vagina to my two fists. Inna herself experienced a slight orgasm from this.

When my wife's orgasm began to subside, I resumed the movement of my hands, only now there was another palm there. Inna tried to push her palm even deeper, but from that angle, it was very inconvenient for her. Then she got off my wife, simply tied her legs behind her head, and, spreading her arms over her thighs, tied them under the bench. Then she took a gag with an inflatable dildo and inserted it into my wife's mouth, pumped it a few times with the pump, felt my wife's throat trying to determine how deep it had gone. But she couldn't determine and made a few more pumps, after which my wife protested with muffled sounds and began to breathe with difficulty.

"Okay, let it be like that for now, I'll adjust it later."

Inna sat down next to me and asked me to let her penetrate with both hands to the full depth of the vagina. I took out one hand, and Inna shoved in one of hers. We held hands and began to slowly move back and forth. After a few minutes, I took out my hand, and Inna inserted her second one. She enjoyed the sensations. Shoving her hands in as far as she could, almost up to the elbows, my wife tried to scream, Inna tried to spread her hands apart and look inside. She couldn't see anything and resumed the hand thrusts, also trying to spread them apart like I did. She took her fists out and drove them back in to the full depth. She enjoyed the process. And my wife began to approach orgasm again. The dildo in her throat made breathing difficult. She began to suffocate.

On the next thrust of Inna's hands, I saw a gap between them and inserted my palm there. At the entrance, the hands slowed down, but Inna continued to press, and slowly the hands sank into the vagina. We were delighted. We looked and couldn't believe we had managed it. We stopped moving our hands and only tried to wiggle our fingers and palms inside, but that was enough for my wife to thrash in ecstasy and lose consciousness.

We had to urgently extract our hands and free my wife from the ropes and gag, and bring her to her senses.

Further executions were postponed until the evening.