Chapter 11

As Donna and Fred left the fun proceedings of the pool party, they noticed that an ambulance had pulled up in front of the house located on the other side of Pam and Keith's. A couple of paramedics were having a hard time carrying a stretcher from the house. Apparently the individual on it was extremely obese. In fact, the body weighed so much that one of the paramedics called over to Fred and asked, "Could you lend a hand here? We've got ourselves a whale."

"Sure. Sure," Fred replied, rushing over to be of assistance. He got at one end of the stretcher and asked, "What happened?"

"The guy has a serious concussion. He's unconscious."

"I'm sorry," said Fred, fearing the worst.

"Don't worry. He's gonna be all right. His condition is stable. We got here just in time."

"Any indication as to what happened?"

The medic who was standing next to him whispered, "Apparently he got so sexually excited that he started to go after his wife."

"His wife?" asked Fred with a puzzled expression.

"Yea. They hadn't had sex for something like ten years, so he came barging into her bedroom and demanded that she put out."

That indeed is what happened. Poor Bart had been watching the pool party from his bedroom window. He couldn't believe how much sexual action was taking place at one time before his eyes. On one side of the yard Pam was going at it with a blonde fellow, while in the pool itself Keith was going at it with the beautiful blonde woman. It was too difficult to focus on any one scene. He moved his binoculars back and forth, from one couple to the other, checking out mouths, breasts, buttocks, cunts, dicks, balls, tummies, thighs, and legs. He was listening to pants, grunts, sighs, swoons, and exaltations of ejaculatory release.

He would chant, "C'mon little blonde guy. Fuck that brunette. Fuck her good." Or, "C'mon Pam. Ride him! Ride him!" Or, his attention would be diverted to the pool and he would cry out, "Oh blonde babe with the tiny waist, spread 'em just a little wider. A little wider, please!"

Bart was literally drooling. Slobber was trickling from out of the comers of his mouth and dripping down his chin. His heart was beating at a galloping pace and his pulse was racing furiously.

Back and forth he would move his binoculars, faster and faster, trying to capture all of the action, not wanting to miss anything. He didn't even notice that he had knocked his bag of com puffs into his crotch, spilling crumbs over his entire groin area. As a result, he ground them into his pecker with his palm as he masturbated. It was slightly itchy, but he continued pounding away undeterred.

Finally, when he witnessed the foursome having an orgy on the steps of the pool he got up and started pacing his room in circles. "I've had it! I want sex with someone other than my right hand."

He stormed out of his bedroom and knocked on his wife's door. When there was no answer he barged in. He saw her sitting in a large chair facing the window.

She hadn't heard him enter because she had a Walkman on her ears, listening to some music.

"Liz! Liz!" he called.

He rushed over to her and saw that she too was completely nude and watching the orgy. And incredibly, she was giving chants the same way that he did. "Come on, bitch! Come on. Stick it to that tiny blonde. Come on! Make her cum and cum and cum."

Bart stepped closer, but nearly tripped. He looked down and saw dozens of batteries scattered on the floor around the bedroom. "What's going on here?" he asked, loudly.

She suddenly turned around and saw him. "Why you dirty son-of-a-bitch!" she shouted. "How dare you disturb me when I'm busy."

"Busy? Doing what? Beating off?"

"Yea! Just like you, fuckface."

For the first time in his life he was angry. She had derided his favorite pastime. "Listen bitch, it's time that we had a little talk."

"About what, fatso?"

"I want sex, and I want it now."

She smiled wickedly and said, "The only way that you'll get to use my cunt is if you win the lottery. And even then it'll cost you every fucking cent. But even if you paid me a million bucks I wouldn't want to make love with a man who had an orange-colored pecker."

He didn't know what she was talking about. He looked down and saw that, sure enough, his penis was colored a sickly orange.

"You were beating off while you were eating junk food again, weren't you?" she asked. "Shit! What a dork I married!"

He started to feel a rush of guilt about his appearance when he noticed that she had a huge black vibrator sticking out of her cunt. And it was still operating! He pointed to it and shouted, "And what about you? What's that, huh? A new kind of tampon ?"

She decided to turn the argument against him by saying, "When your husband only possesses a three-inch penis, you make the best of a bad situation."

That did it. He used all his energy to get his fat body into motion. He jumped her and knocked her onto the bed.

It was a foolish move. Not because he hurt her, but because she was ten times stronger than him.

She reached behind her and grabbed the base of a brass lamp. Using it like a baseball bat, she swung it down on his head.

Kapow! Kapow! Kapow!

He was knocked out cold. For the rest of the evening he would dream of beating off in giant sacks of corn puffs.

Because Liz was a real bitch, she didn't call the medics until the orgy at Pam and Keith's was over.

However, Bart finally got the last laugh. While recuperating in the hospital the next day, he learned that she too had been admitted for treatment. Apparently she had had too good of an affair with her vibrator. The mechanical object had gotten lodged far up her rectum. She needed minor surgery to have it removed.

She had been overly turned on by the sight of a beautiful blonde with a coiffured cunt.