Both

Adam happily relaxed with his reheated lasagna and his personal pad quietly playing the evening news, when he was asked "So did you ask Heather?"

He looked up and felt a great relief, like a gift of fresh oxygen. Charlotte was his first love, and she went on being his first love. With her dazzling eyes and smile and petite upturned nose and baby-round upper face he had imagined that only a princess could look like her. Her attitude was simple and straightforward, a respite from when all the teasing and scheming in his sex life got a little too heady.

"I stopped by and saw Joan and Katie, and Joan talked me out of it." Overly simple, but essentially correct.

"A perfectly nice diamond-clasped spiked collar, going to waste. Can I wear it?"

He laughed. "Now, don't be spiteful. That's not really your style."

"So, no new wives. Anything else happen?"

He shrugged. "I hired a secretary."

"Is she any good?"

Fucking fantastic, he wanted to say. "She seems like a keeper, but we'll take it day by day."

"You'd better eat up. You'll need your strength. Donna is all warmed up for you in bed."

"Fuck Donna."

"I'm sure you will."

Adam took a big bite and washed it down with wine. "What I mean is, fuck all this scheduling. Come over here."

"Yes!? ... Adam!?" Charlotte laughed delightedly as he put his hands all over her. "You go out on a date, Donna's upstairs -- are you sure?"

Adam hurriedly undid her blouse and yanked it open, giving her his answer. Women had been coming at him all night, but here for once he had an initiative, with his first wife, and so he didn't give a damn about scheduling or even about lasagna, in minutes he had her naked and was screwing her good and hard on a couch in the library.

"What's! Gotten into! You!" Charlotte wheezed with joy.

He would not say. She would figure out the Gogo effect soon enough. For now, he lifted her and nailed her right up against a library wall, her buttocks bouncing, her legs wrapped up around him desperate for anything to cling to, and he hammered and he hammered and he hammered until at last she nodded off and drifted into a gently snoozing slumber.

His cock did not so much find relief, or even lose all its hardness, as it simply retreated into a kind of rubbery toughness easily stuffed back down his pants. His eagerness for sex actually revived, he eventually returned to his bedroom.

"Remove all your clothing, outworlder!"

Adam turned to see Donna holding a spear to his neck. There was nothing seriously dangerous about this, for this had happened many times before. They had seen a strange old movie, no doubt based very loosely on H. Rider Haggard's "She," about a man discovering a lost civilization ruled by a cruel white queen. Donna loved playing the cruel white queen, even if there was no genuine cruelness to be found in her at all, if only because it was her excuse to wear a seriously hot leopardskin bikini while decking out the bedroom in zebraskin motifs.

Adam was happy to strip at spearpoint for his jungle queen. As so-called "trophy wives" went, Donna was very much a fantasy come true. She had starred in endless silly exploitative movies, compared to which the "She" ripoff seemed downright sensible, but she was finally getting small roles in the bigger projects. Legions of men worshiped her, praised her, desired her -- but only Adam had married her, and never looked back.

Adam figured that, as the cruel jungle queen's captive, he might be able to turn things in his favor if only he could powerfuck her within an inch of her life -- and so he did.

(Originally posted to the BE Addventure by DruulEmpire)