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“That was it for me. I’ll never get married again. I don’t think I’d ever
be able to trust another woman as long as I live. If I could get along
without sex I’d never even look at another one. Now the only contact I have
with any of them is for sex, pure and simple. I’ve been doing the swinging
thing for a few months and I’ve learned I’m up for anything so long as it
makes me feel good and has no strings attached.
“You know the whole time we were married I never once cheated on that
bitch. Not that I didn’t have the chance either. I had lots of chances to
cop a little trim on the side and never once did. I even had a few guys
proposition me, like you did back when you were a kid. I can’t tell you how
many times I’ve looked back on that and other offers I had and have kicked
myself for not taking advantage of them.”
I’d been listening sympathetically as Eric unburdened himself, but that
last line nearly took my breath away. There was no doubt that I still found
him incredibly sexually attractive; I’d been jacking off for years
fantasizing about this hunky man. Now it seemed that he was making himself
available to me. Still we’d just become reacquainted and we had a lot
riding on our business relationship. I didn’t, couldn’t do anything that
would jeopardize that. I didn’t know what to do so I didn’t do much of
anything. I made some inane remarks about how hard it must be for him; how
I felt his pain; how he’d meet someone, some day who would make him change
his mind about romance; bullshit like that. We ate a great lunch and
talked business, but it was really hard to keep my mind off what was
between Eric’s muscular legs. We went back to the office with no further
reference to sex.
The remainder of the week was so busy for both of us that we barely had
time to do anything other than the routine. There was still much to discuss
and plan. For this reason on Friday afternoon I asked Eric if he’d be
willing to work on a long range plan with me on Saturday. He looked a
little disappointed, but said, “sure not a problem. What time do you want
to meet?”
“Are you sure it’s alright, you didn’t have other plans made, did you?”
“As a matter of fact I did, but it’s nothing I can’t put off. The meeting
is more important.”
“If you’re sure, I’ll meet you here say 10:00 tomorrow morning?”
“That’s fine. See you tomorrow.”
“Great.”
I couldn’t help but stare at his bubble butt as he left my office. That
night I spent a long, slow session stroking myself to an immense orgasm
just thinking of swallowing him whole. It was somehow very satisfying,
because now I felt that I had a chance to turn it into reality. I just
didn’t know how soon that would be.
The next morning I arrived at the office at 9:30. I was dressed casually
in a polo shirt and a pair of dockers. Eric arrived at just before 10:00,
carrying a couple of containers of Dunkin’ Doughnut coffee and wearing a
pair of baggy sweat pants and an old sweat shirt. The fabric of the sweat
pants was so soft and worn that you didn’t have to look hard or stare to
see that there was a fat cock swinging loose just behind the material. I
began to think that his purpose in life was to sexually torment me.
“So,” I asked, “were you able to rearrange your plans?”
“No. I was going to entertain a couple from Connecticut, and I was hoping
they’d come down later in the evening and spend the night so that we ccould
party after I finished here, but they have a wedding to attend back home
tomorrow afternoon, so we left it for some other time. I gave up at least a
couple of great blow jobs for this meeting. You owe me big time.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that, though I thought of a couple of ways, but
I just kept my mouth shut and we got down to work. At about 2:00 it dawned
on us that we were hungry so we call out for pizza delivery. It was about
6:00 when we both decided we’d had enough and it was clear we’d made
significant progress. We worked well together.
Eric stood, giving a man sized stretch. When he did, his shirt rode up
exposing his hard, flat stomach and the flaxen down that surrounded his
navel and then trailed downward toward his prize. As my eyes gazed lower I
stared right at the head of his dick. When he stretched backward it had
pushed forward and was now right in front of my face clearly outlined
beneath the soft material of his sweats. The head alone was the size of a
hen’s egg. I guess my mouth dropped open and I was staring.
The next thing I heard was a chuckle followed by, “see something you like?”
“Yes,” I barely whispered, “and I see something I’ve wanted for almost 16
years. Can I have it?”
“Seems only right. I should have let you have it back 16 years ago, so I
guess I owe it to you. And for sure you owe me a fantastic blow job
because that’s what I missed out on this afternoon.”
“Then,” I said grinning, “I think we can work out a deal. Do you want to
do it here or would you like to come back to my place?”
“Tell you what. I’m super horny, it’s been awhile since I’ve been with
anyone. That’s why I was disappointed at missing out on the Connecticut
couple, they both have very talented mouths. I’m good to go for at least
two or three rounds. If you don’t mind I’d like it quick, down and dirty
here and now. Then once the edge is off we can go back to your place and
do it again slow and easy. You up for that?”
“I am if you are,” I said. Was I ever? Eric sat down in his chair again
and then swung it around toward where I was sitting at the end of the
table. He stretched out, spread his legs and then grabbed the top of his
sweats with his thumbs and pulled it down and hooked it under his large
ball sac. His cock was plumping out and rising right before my eyes. By
the time I got out of my chair, came around the side of the table and
kneeled between his legs it was standing steely hard, a full 6 1/2 inches
of the thickest manmeat I’d ever seen. I was easily as big around as it
was long. In the flesh it was even more beautiful than I’d ever imagined.
I’d waited so long for this. I felt as though I were dreaming. I took hold
of it in my hand feeling its velvety soft warmth. I gently pulled it
toward my face and flicked my tongue out to capture the small clear bead of
man honey that had just formed at the slit. I tasted him for the first time
and went wild. I dove down on that meaty hog and didn’t come up for air
until he was moaning like a bitch in heat. I was determined that he was
going to get the best blow job of his life; I was certain I was going to
give the best blow job of my life.
He couldn’t stand it. He was too hot to just kick back and enjoy it. He
grabbed the back of my head with his strong opened hands and pumping into
my mouth. He began slowly, but as we both became more comfortable and sure
of each other’s rhythms the speed pick up. It was as though he’d been
suddenly unchained. He stood up so that he could drive himself deeper,
never letting go of my head. We bonded, mouth to cock, a virtual fucking
machine. All I wanted was to drink from the essence of his being, to feel
him gushing his pent up juices into my mouth and down my throat. I felt
his balls tighten up, his breathing become more labored and his body
tense. Then it happened. His cock swelled and pulsed and he shot. There
was almost not enough room for both cock and cum, but I took gulp after
gulp. There was no way I was giving up a single drop.
When he’d regained his composure, breath and ability to speak he looked
down at me, my mouth still stuffed with his now softening piece. He was
grinning from ear to ear.
“Hot damn, bossman. That was the best head I’ve ever had, bar none. If
that’s what you can do on your knees with my britches still on I can’t wait
to be naked with you in a bed. I hope you liked it as much as I did, cause
if so it’s my guess neither one of us will ever bitch about working late
again.”
I slid his cock from my mouth, kissing the head as I did. I looked up at
him again and just smiled. But he was right. Naked and in bed made things
much more interesting…but that’s a whole other story.
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bastard.”
“Smell…you could smell me because I was in the room when
it was happening.”
“Bullshit! Bullshit!”
“I was there to make sure nothing went wrong; to make sure he
didn’t mess with you.”
“You were in the room all those times? Then if you’re not a
rapist you’re a goddam voyeuristic creep! But it was you; I know it
was you, and I’m calling the goddam cops on you, you fucking rapist
loser.”
She hung up the phone. I dug the bottle of bourbon out of my
closet, drank half a glass, then walked slowly to her dorm room. A
sheet of lined paper was tacked to her door with large, sloppy letters
commanding, “Go Away!”
I stared at the note for about half a minute, then walked
back to my room.
* * *
The next morning I found a note from her slipped under my
door:
“Dear Creep — I just wanted you to be fully aware of how
much you fucked up my life and ruined my sense of self-esteem.
You have made my sex life the subject of grotesque rumors all over
campus; you have made my vagina public intellectual property. Every
moment that I endure this hellish existence, the knowledge of
how you cheapened and hurt me grows stronger, more painful, like a
cancer devouring my conscience. You horrify me. Your former friend,
Jeanine. PS: Rotting in hell for eternity would be far, far too
gentle a fate for you. PPS: Don’t ever talk to me again.”
* * *
Peggy told me that Jeanine had initiated a series of telephone
sessions with a psychic in order to figure out who the guy was.
“Madame Horowitz is really a fantastic woman. Really empowered
by the purity of nature and the spirit earth. She lives in Los Angeles,
reads Tarot cards, tea leaves, astrology charts, palms, crystal balls.
Actually I think it’s all nonsense. Expensive nonsense. But Jeanine’s
pretty desperate.”
“She’s threatened to go to the cops,” I said.
“I know. But I think she’s afraid of her parents getting
involved. Her program of rigorous debauchery has given her a profound
sense of guilt.”
“She’s not so bad. Not nearly as bad as she wants to be.”
“She says the feeling of having fucked someone she can’t
identify by name or sight or anything else robs her of the feeling of
sexual accomplishment and makes her feel deeply violated.”
“She really enjoyed it for a while. She told me she was in
love with the guy.”
“Sounds like a normal relationship, the way her attitude
changed so drastically.”
“If she’d just screwed some guy at a bar she wouldn’t really
know much more about him than she knows about her Invisible Man. Not
really.”
“Yeah. Welcome to blind labyrinth of human sexuality. Here’s
a cast for your heart.”
Peggy stared at me, beaming with joyous sarcasm, her features
bearing a sinister slant. I wanted very much to kiss her.
* * *
Jeanine began wearing hats, sunglasses, and clothing made from
hemp. She changed her hair: once the color of maple syrup penetrated by
sunlight, she dyed it jet black. I sometimes saw her striding quickly
down corridors with a kleenex held over her mouth and nose. She stopped
painting her nails and wearing make-up. She stopped eating in the
cafeteria, preferring dried fruit and nuts she purchased from an
organic mail-order company. She stopped saying “Hi,” “How are you,”
or “What’s up,” but instead leapt instantly into the substance of the
few conversations she found necessary to have. She stopped inviting
people into her dorm room.
“She says she’s very chemically sensitive,” Peggy said while
we ate spaghetti with clam sauce at the cafeteria. “She threw away her
microwave, dumped her television, and now she’s trying to get rid of
everything made of plastic. She’s disciplining her environment.”
“What’s wrong with plastic?”
“She doesn’t ride in cars anymore.”
“What’s wrong with cars?”
“The fumes disrupt her bodily equilibrium. And plastics, she
thinks they emit toxic waves that distort her thoughts. She considers
it a form of chemical rape. She only listens to chants, and writes
everything in runes.”
“Does she ever talk about that guy anymore?”
“She doesn’t think that men are psychically evolved enough to
register in her world.”
“Does she still want to know who it was?”
“She claims she’s still a virgin, and plans to stay that
way.”
“Jesus Christ. She’s delusional.”
“She thinks people shape their own reality. What you decide,
what you focus on, that’s what’s real.”
* * *
About two weeks later Peggy discovered that Jeanine was
pregnant. Jeanine still denied having had intercourse, believing
instead that she had been procreatively enslaved by environmentally
reckless corporations.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Peggy said with an air
of investigative triumph, “But she thinks that toxic emissions from
the paint on her walls triggered spontaneous life-formation in her
uterus.”
“What’s hard to believe about that?”
“I’m serious. She said that.”
“Her walls are blue and green and red. Paisely slop she
threw up when she was going through her hippy thing. Does she think the
baby will be paisely-colored?”
“Christ, Bobby, I don’t know what she’s going to do. I asked
if I could take her in for an abortion, but she hasn’t gotten
permission from the foetus’ spirit yet.”
“If she doesn’t abort it, is she going to insist that the paint
company marry her?”
* * *
Shortly after Peggy persuaded her to get an abortion,
Jeanine escaped the narrow definition of “human being.” Humans were
creatures of wreckage, exploitation, environmental poisoning. She had
become part of the earth, a silent, passive, but resilient force
that adjusts to each new vile liberty people take with it. She had lain
on her bed blindfolded like a pristine grassy hill tunneled into by
callous metal miners, helplessly allowing, torn open, subjugated.
Ultimately, like the earth being stripped of its minerals, she lost her
child, but eventually endured the awful loss with an amnesiac
forgiveness. She seemed not to realize that any of it happened.
Events came to completion, but the play of natural forces went on.
In the months before I graduated I saw her regularly in the
agriculture department buildings, entering the greenhouses,
transporting tools and pushing wheelbarrows of soil and fertilizer.
She was learning the creativity of the earth.
One afternoon I saw her chatting with Paul outside a lecture
hall. She was gesturing excitedly as he smiled and nodded. I watched
from a cautious distance, half-shielded in a doorway, wondering if at
some level, perhaps unconsciously, she realized that he was the man who
had made love to her and impregnated her. After about three minutes
they walked to one of the campus coffee shops. I kept staring at the
shop they’d gone into, wondering about the quality of their interaction
with each other, the emotional atmosphere of their togetherness. And I
was consumed with sadness for her.
I walked to her dorm room. Standing in the corridor, I tore
a blank page from one of my binders, scribbled a brief note to her,
then slipped it under her door:
The University of Montana was surrounded by ancient
forests whose wildlife, I had no doubt, was far more daring and
vigorous than that on campus. It was a conservative school in a
sleepy, often cold environment conducive to huddling and conserving
energy. The academic tone was one of intellectual diffidence,
cultural muting, religious mainstreaming. Students gazed somberly out
library windows, rested their heads on their desks, gathered
in the cafeteria to consume starches. The surrounding roads disappeared
into dense woods, vanished under snowdrifts, and probably didn’t lead
anywhere anyway.
When Jeanine graduated high school at the precocious age of
sixteen and began attending the university, rather than finding it
stimulating she found it insufferably dull. But at least she was
away from her parents, and, after pursuing her studies with such
commendable diligence, she was now determined to spend her time in
pursuit of nearly life-threatening debauchery: to finally cave in to
her roaring lust, to shatter her disciplined mind with a dizzying
variety of controlled substances, to betray friends, to tear couples
apart in torrid trists, to…well, to really live.
This was a lot harder than she imagined; this was the
University of Montana. One of the most popular majors was agriculture,
and Jeanine soon concluded that the future farmers of America had
as much of a capacity for hedonism as the vegetables they harvested.
“You look at these torpid bastards and you get the sense that
all they fantasize about is planting row after row of goddam corn.
These are people whose livelihood depends on fertility, for chrissake,
but do you think that even suggests sexuality to them? Hell, no. I’d
like to run the fuckers over with their goddam tractors.”
Jeanine began buying stacks of pornographic magazines in
convenience stores, tearing out photographs of nude women, then
inserting these in library books in hopes of stimulating a massive
outbreak of libido.
But it didn’t work. In her first semester, Jeanine was asked
out once: to a country music festival benefitting farmers.
“The guy wears nothing but flannel. Imagining him in leather
is like imagining a cow riding a motorcycle.”
“You’re too young,” her friend Peggy assured her. “They’re
afraid of being charged with statutory rape, or something. Once you
get older you’ll get more action.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely.”
“How many guys have asked you out this semester?”
Peggy was silent for a moment. “Well, everyone knows that
I’m looking for a husband, not a roll in the hay.”
“Bobby,” she turned to me, “How many girls have you asked
out this semester?”
“I’m too busy planting mental corn to bother with girls,” I
said. She shook her head disgustedly, then grabbed a copy of Penthouse
from her backpack and handed it to me.
I surmised the problem was that Jeanine came off as haughty. She
seemed to disdain all of the guys in school: men destined to spend a
substantial part of their lives shovelling manure, driving tractors.
Her arrogance, partly based on her stellar academic record, came
across as strongly as the Channel perfume she seemed to marinade
herself in. She reminded me of a slab of luminescent flesh yearning
to be ripped apart in someone’s teeth, but which everyone assumed was
lethally poisonous.
* * *
“Ted, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, Bob, what’s up?”
I stepped closer to him, turning away discreetly, my gaze
settling on the window. Outside, snow swirled through the cone-shaped
orange beams of the parking lot floodlights.
“You know Jeanine?”
“Not really.”
“Do you think she’s pretty?”
He hesitated, as if somehow puzzled.
“Pretty what?”
“Pretty looking.”
“Well, sure.”
…End of the part1. To be continued..
some asexual pedestal labeled MOM, I rapidly came to see her as an
extraordinarily sexy woman. Suddenly, I was in lust.
After all, she wasn’t a dummy and she wasn’t some bimbo. I had
reason to believe that she was a sexually intense person, but because of
conventional morality, she didn’t feel free to share that side of herself with
her son. I’d been successful in developing and easy-going and partially
uninhibited relationship with her. There was an unspoken sexual tease to
be sure, but it remained submerged and unacknowledged. How might I
change? That was the question.
Crudeness would never work. That was a no-brainer. Similarly, a
frontal assault would be ineffective and worse, insulting. While she might
be more susceptible to a secret romantic connection because of my father’s
neglect, it wouldn’t be with me, that was clear.
I’d thought of enticing her into something like a nudist colony, even
mentioned it a couple of times. She was mildly interested, but I knew that
that was no more than a blind alley, an emotional cull de sac, and not even
a very sexual one. I feared the stiff and formal behavior I imagined a nudist
colony to be. Too, I suspected that it would provide at most little more
than an avenue for my voyeurism but no entre into sexuality. Nothing
there, I concluded.
Would some innocent approach move me closer? I remembered
that she’d been willing to allow me to massage her feet, even had been a bit
careless in her posture, at least at first. Might that provide an avenue of
approach?
Then I remembered that my mom liked her wine. She wasn’t a
lush, but it was clear that she didn’t stop drinking just because she began
“to feel it.” More than once she’d said, “Why drink if you don’t want to
feel it. I drink for effect.” I also remembered that when tipsy, she became
something of a sloppy drunk. Not fall-down drunk, but certainly risque
often and careless of appearances. I once overheard her say, “I drink to
make my *friends* more interesting.” This wasn’t a common occurrence,
but I had seen it rarely, and only with friends. Well, I was a friend, wasn’t
I?
—————————————————————–
I was waiting for my mother at the arrival gate. Boy, she looked
good as she stepped into the arrival area, an over-night bag hanging from
her shoulder and wearing a light summer dress, uncharacteristically brief
with a hem line well above her shapely knees.
“Hi, good lookin’.” I said to her as I stood there, hands on hips,
looking her over.
“Don’t just check me out, guy. How about a hug?” she asked,
dropping her bag and stepping into my arms.
Whew! I’d hugged my mother lots of times, but I didn’t recall such
intensity, such a full-body press. I was acutely aware of the pressure of her
breasts pressing into my chest and more, somehow her crotch was riding
on my thigh. I distinctly felt her pubic bone as I held her close and kissed
her, first on the cheeks, and then looking at the joy in her eyes, impulsively,
I planted a wet one on her lips. Did I feel a flash of tongue tip?
That fast. It happened that fast. I didn’t have a woodie when I saw
her, but when I stepped away from that kiss, I’d sprouted a boner. I
thought I detected her eyes flitting across my pelvis, but couldn’t be sure.
To hell with it, I thought. She knows I’m not a monk.
“Have anything more than this?” I asked, picking up her shoulder
bag.
“You kidding? You ask me up for a week end, for a dance, and
you think I’ve got it all in that little bag. Why I wouldn’t go to the tennis
club with that little bag alone.”
“A steamer?” I groaned.
…End of the part7. To be continued..
familiar shuffle that passes for soul-felt dancing. Instantly I was acutely
aware of her. Aware of the smell of her hair and the press of her breasts
and the hardness of her pubic bone against me. And, as instantly, I became
hard. I didn’t wonder if she could tell. It was blatant.
“Susan,” I asked – it sounded strange to my ear, “could I kiss you?”
“Of course, Bill. I’d like that.”
“I mean a real kiss. An adult kiss. Not some little-boy-peck-on-
the-cheek kiss.”
“Of course, a real kiss. I never expected less from you.”
She closed her eyes and offered her partially open mouth to me, her
lips wet and seemingly slightly swollen. I opened mine and kissed her lips,
initially very softly, and later with more feeling. She kissed back, making
no effort to end the kiss, seeming to melt into it all the more. We kissed
again, and we mouthed each other, breathing into each other. I gave her
my tongue again and she responded the same way, pushing the urgent,
hardened tip of her tongue deep into my mouth.
I found my self slowly rocking my pelvis into her, rubbing my erect
cock on her thigh. I felt her push back in a slow, grinding fashion, pushing
her pubic bone into me.
“Let’s sit, Bill. I want to be closer to you.” She slowly pushed me
backward toward the couch and as it hit me behind the calves and I was
falling into it, she added, “Can I sit on your lap?”
Without waiting for a reply, she half turned and lowered her bottom
into my lap, wrapping her arms about me in the same motion, her breast
under my chin, her cleavage right under my nose.
“There! That’s better,” she proclaimed, reaching for my right hand
and placing it on her hip while I placed my left hand around her bottom.
She was sitting right on top of my hard-on. She squirmed a few times as if
better defining what she was sitting on. “Isn’t that better?”
“Ummph,” I exaggerated and in a strained voice as if an elephant
were sitting on my chest, I replied, wheezing, “Yesss. So much better.”
“You turkey, you. I hardly weigh anything and besides, you
haven’t paid enough attention to me tonight. Well, at least not in the last
few seconds. I want another kiss.”
I looked up at her and mimicking her surrender, closed my eyes and
offered her my lips. She immediately ran her tongue deep into my mouth
and groaned, “God, you’re delicious,” again grinding her butt on my lap.
Without thinking or conscious decision, I ran the palm of my right
hand up from her hip, across her waist to the side of her thorax. I missed
and was palming the side of her breast. She kissed me harder in apparent
approval so I went for broke and cupped her full breast in my hand,
thumbing her erect nipple.
I don’t know when we broke that kiss. Actually, I suspect we
never did. It just slid into others. I made no pretense of touching her tit by
mistake. Rather, I palmed it and weighed it and rolled her nipple between
my fingers in as provocative a fashion as I could imagine. I wanted to feel
her breast and more, I wanted to be patently blatant about it, that both of
would know and acknowledge that I was caressing her breast and nipple.
We were both moaning and voicing largely incoherent sounds. She
was hugging my head and tussling with my hair in a passionate, almost
frenzied fashion. Our faces were wet from the open-mouth kissing and
licking. I had pulled down the bodice of her dress, exposing her demi bra.
Her dark areolae were plainly visible through the lacy half cup. Pulling the
bra cup down, her hard nipple popped out as I bent my head toward her tit.
“Yessss,” she hissed, “kiss me there. Suck me, Billy. Suck my
nipple. You’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, haven’t you?”
“You could tell?”
…End of the part12. To be continued..
pounded his meat up into her pussy. He came with a loud groan
and laid still for a few seconds. Then, he lifted Jenny’s wet
snatch off his cock and pushed and pulled her until her cunt was
situated over his mouth.
Just before he pulled her down, he said, “I want to suck my
cum out of your sweet, easy, little cunt.”
Jenny was more than ready and began her orgasm almost
immediately. I had been jerking off the whole time and I, too,
came, shooting my cum onto the closet door.
Bill ate my wife’s pussy until she had a second orgasm and
collapsed on top of him. He pushed her off him, rolled off the
bed and began to undress.
“I can’t believe it, Jenny. The perfect lady in work, the
perfect whore in the bedroom. Believe me, if I had only known
you were so easy a piece of ass, I’d've been filling your hole
for a long time.”
Jenny propped herself up on an elbow and watched him
undress. “I’m not easy, Bill. The mood was right and I was just
enough tipsy… You know it’s after 1 a.m., don’t you?
Shouldn’t you be getting dressed instead of undressed?”
“But we aren’t done, yet, are we? You want to get me hard
again, so I can fuck you.”
Jenny laughed and pulled Bill onto the bed by his hand,
“Well, if that’s what I want, I’d better get started.”
Still in garterbelt and stockings, Jenny, again knelt
between Bill’s legs and took his soft cock into her mouth. She
really put on a great show, with it ending as Bill was pumping
into her, doggie-style, moaning “You slut! You slut!” as he
came.
Jenny helped Bill dress and saw him out the door. I was
standing at the bedroom door with my hard cock in my hand. We
didn’t make it to the bed. On the floor, Jenny took my hard-on
into her mouth and positioned her soaked pussy over my face.
“Eat me, Ron. I really need you to eat me!”
I looked up and saw another man’s cum in my wife’s hairs and
couldn’t do it. Instead, I rolled us over, took my cock from her
mouth and inserted into her pussy.
…………………………….
I woke up late the next morning to the delicious feeling of
my cock in Jenny’s hot, wet, magic mouth. I loved feeling it
grow rigid as she slurped and sucked and licked it. I relaxed
back into the pillows and enjoyed her expert cocksucking. In
just a few minutes, Jenny was fucking me with her mouth, and I
couldn’t hold out any longer. My cum shot out of me and into her
accepting mouth.
When I was done, Jenny looked up and smiled, “Good morning,
Lover. I just want you to know that I have never felt sexier,
hotter, more like a complete woman, than I have since your
birthday.”
I smiled back at her. With my fingers I dabbed some of my
cum from her chin and she sucked my sticky fingers into her
mouth.
“So, it looks like a foreign cock every now and then is all
we need to keep you happy.”
“Ron, it’s so sexy knowing you’re watching. Last night, I
kept thinking about you being five feet away, watching everything
I was doing. It turned me on so much!”
……
And it must have. Our sex life was wonderful. Between the
different hours that we worked, and my longer commute time, Jenny
usually arrived home a little after 4 p.m. and I dragged in after
6:30. Instead of Jenny starting dinner and watching the news
until I got home, we developed a pattern of love-making I really
enjoyed.
When I got home, Jenny was almost always naked or
almost-naked in bed and ready for me. She insisted that I eat
her already-wet cunt, first, and then she would attack my body
with her hands, tongue, mouth and cunt, ending in a terrific
fuck. We’d then shower together and enjoy the rest of the
evening together.
……
One day in late March, my office went out to lunch to
celebrate a huge sale I had made in the morning. None of us
returned to work, and, as a result, I turned onto our street at
about 4:15 p.m. — just in time to see three figures enter our
front door.
I stopped the car still a half-block from the house, and
wondered what to do. One of the figures had obviously been Jenny
— her car stood in the driveway. Who were the other two people,
and why were they waiting at the front door for Jenny to get
home?
As I sat there, our bedroom light went on, and a thought
began to form.
I parked the car at the curb, walked down to our house and
into the backyard. I quietly climbed the steps up to the deck
off the kitchen, and climbed from that railing onto the deck off
the bedroom. I crept over to the french doors, but couldn’t find
enough opening in the curtains to observe anything inside the
room.
Desperate, I climbed up on the railing and peeked into the
top of a window. Perfect! The miniblinds were open enough to
see a sight I couldn’t believe!
Inside, Jenny, Danny and Danny’s friend, CJ were undressing!
When they were all naked, Jenny laid back onto the bed and
Danny moved his hard cock close to her lips. My wife moved her
head until she could suck it into her mouth. At the same time,
CJ was kneeling between Jenny’s spread legs. His hands were busy
at her cunt for a few seconds, and then he moved his cock up to
her pussy. He slid it in it’s whole length in one quick shove.
Jenny let go of Danny’s prick and began to really hump CJ,
lifting her hips to take each of his thrusts. Danny moved down
on the bed and took Jenny’s right nipple into his mouth.
I couldn’t believe this! This was my wife who said she did
it only for me, fucking and sucking the neighborhood schoolboys!
I also couldn’t believe it, but she never looked sexier!
CJ soon came and quickly rolled from between my wife’s
spread thighs. Danny rolled over and pulled on her hips until
she was kneeling on all fours in front of that big cock of his.
Danny was not gentle as he shoved his cock in to the hilt and
started to bang away at Jenny. CJ moved his head under her
swinging tits and grabbed one with his hand and the other with
his mouth.
Through the windows I couldn’t hear a thing, but I could see
how much Jenny was enjoying being an easy piece of ass for these
two young studs. She had her first orgasm as Danny was pounding
his meat into her, and he came soon after that.
They all rolled apart, and I expected them to start getting
dressed, but, instead, Jenny took Danny’s shiny, wet cock into
her mouth and began sucking it.
Both kids had erections within minutes, and this time, Jenny
straddled CJ’s hips and rode his cock to a hard, fast cum for
both of them. She played with Danny’s prick with her hand, until
CJ shot his load, and then my wife-whore rolled over on her back
and spread her legs, yet again.
She fingered herself and said something, and they all
laughed. Bill was right. She was a slut! They were still
laughing as Danny slid his pole up her very pink cunt.
This was the fucking Jenny really got into. She wrapped her
arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. From where I
was, I could watch Danny’s cock rise out of her cunt, almost its
full length, and slide back in to the hilt, his big bag of balls
slapping against Jenny’s ass. I knew then that Jenny had taught
him how to fuck. He was giving her exactly what she wanted –
her eyes shut tight, her mouth open — she was enjoying the
fucking tremendously.
She began to cum, and it lasted for minutes, until her arms
and legs fell slack and she was still on the bed. Danny didn’t
miss a beat, continuing to pump away at her cunt until he, too,
finally came.
……
They rested a few minutes and then dressed. I carefully
climbed down from my perch and made my way back to my car. I sat
in it until my normal arrival time and pulled into the driveway.
As usual, Jenny was naked in our freshly made bed, fingering
herself as I walked into the bedroom.
I was incredibly angry with her for cheating on me, but I
had never been more aroused in my life then when I was staring
through the window at my slut-whore-wife put out to the
neighborhood.
I stripped in seconds and jumped on top of Jenny, pushing my
erect cock at her pussy lips.
She smiled at me, “No, Dear. I want you to eat me, first.”
In anger and sexual frenzy, I held her hands to the bed and
pushed my cock up inside her with all my strength. I looked down
at my sweet-faced wife and said, “I told you, I don’t eat other
men’s cum, you cheap little slut!”
She tensed her body for just a second, and then smiled,
again, “That’s what you think. You’ve been eating it out of my
pussy every day for months!”
That second, I shot the juice of the best cum of my life
into her well-used and cum-filled cunt.
……
Later, Jenny told me that when Danny came back the Monday
after my birthday, she did tell him what she told me. Except,
she said he looked so crushed and broken she offered him “one
last time.” By the third fuck in an hour, Jenny admitted she was
really enjoying Danny’s attention and youth and stamina, and, of
course, his big cock.
That day was the first instead of the last. Almost every
workday afternoon, Danny stopped by the house and thoroughly
fucked my very willing wife.
She explained that over Christmas break, CJ’s parents went
out of town and he was staying with Danny. They were best
friends and Danny had already told CJ about Jenny (against
Jenny’s wishes), and CJ sat in the livingroom while Danny and
Jenny got their rocks off upstairs. On the third day of this,
Jenny felt sorry for CJ and his raging teenage hormones and told
Danny to send CJ up when he was dressed. Only two days later, it
was a threesome, and has been a threesome since.
Jenny said she thought the whole thing was more than I
wanted to handle, especially everyday, a teenager or two, and a
neighbor, so she kept the whole affair a secret from me. When I
wouldn’t eat her pussy after Bill fucked her, she said it was an
incredible turn-on to have me eat her out almost every day, after
her two young studs had filled her pussy up with their gooey cum.
She always cleaned away any excess drips on the outside of her
pussy, so it wouldn’t be obvious. I told her I honestly didn’t
know, and thought she tasted great. To me, she just tasted like
sex.
……
So, in the end, I got what I thought I wanted, but more than
I expected. I knew I’d enjoy watching another man fuck my lovely
wife, but I had never expected my wife to enjoy other men fucking
her so much!
Are we happy?
Jenny certainly is, and I still like to watch — but she is
certainly fucking a whole lot more than I’m watching. Just
yesterday, she even mentioned that CJ’s older twin brothers will
be home from college for the summer — and she had a real sparkle
in her eyes when she said it!
I was getting tired of driving. We had started early in the morning
and it was now getting dark out. Bob and Jan were in the back asleep
and Anita was conked out against the window. I was getting punch drunk
at the wheel and decided it was time to call it quits. I turned to the
back seat and woke Bob and said, “Bob, I am bushed would you mind if
you spelled me? The motel is just an hour away.”
“Sure no problem, pull over.” Bob replied.
I pulled slowly to the side of the road pulled the car to a
gentle stop. I didn’t want to wake our sleeping wives. Bob eased Jan’s
head off his lap and inserted a pillow. I opened the car door and we
did a Chinese fire drill and he took the wheel.
It was a good thing that the front seat was power. He eased the
seat forward and Anita didn’t even budge. He eased the car out onto the
freeway and picked up speed. I took a pillow out of the back and
arranged it against the window and settled in for a little nap.
My dream had something to do with cannibals, and I awoke with a
start.
Bob was just passing the state line and the moon was passing
behind some clouds. I started into my shirt pocket for a cigarette,
when I felt a hand inch its way up my leg. I looked over to Jan. Her
eyes were closed but there was a smile on her face. The hand continued
up until it rested squarely on my cock. It started to rise in my
pants and when it was about half staff Jan started to gently stroke
it.
I pushed the hand away, thinking that she didn’t know it was me.
Her finger went to her lips she made a sign for me to be quiet, opened
her eyes briefly and winked.
Her eyes closed again, and I pulled the blanket up to my chin and
resumed my sleeping posture.
The hand crept up my legs and started stroking my cock through my
pants. I eased my arm over and rested my hands on her breast, I could
feel her nipples already erect. She must have been having a great
dream.
I closed my eyes and her actions under the blanket became more
urgent.
I took my hand from her breast and eased my fly down. I glanced up
to Bob to see if he was aware of anything out of the ordinary. He
seemed engrosed in the road and absorbed in the music on the radio, so
I breathed a little sigh of relief and closed my eyes again.
As soon as I had the zipper all the way down a thrill went thru
me as Jan released my rod from its confining underwear and stroked it.
She scooted close, and her hand was replaced with a warm set of lips.
She licked little circles around the purple head and in one gulp
swallowed my cock.
I was trying to keep my breathing even and not make any noise as
I eased my hand down her belly. Her legs parted slightly and I rubbed
her damp pants over her pussy.
I began a steady massage as she fastened her lips at the ridge of
my cock-head and stroked with her fingers the shaft insistantly.
I couldn’t help myself, and quickly came to an orgasm and popped
off in her mouth.
The music covered the sounds of her swallowing my come. I worked
frantically at her box through the jeans, but felt I was getting nowhere.
She kept up the sucking till I was totally limp, then she pushed
my hand from her snatch and mouthed “later.”
I couldn’t believe it, I had just had a blow job by the wife of
my best friend while he sat inches away. He must have heard something.
I checked the back of his head and saw no response, shrugged my
shoulders and settled back against the pillow and fell quickly to
sleep.
The motion of the car stopping in the motel awakened me. Jan made
no sign to me about what had happened as we checked in and took our
bags to the room.
I made an excuse to my wife about not being sleepy and went to
the game room of the motel to think over what had happened.
I was in the middle of my third game of Centipede when Jan walked
in all dewey eyed.
“Sorry about before,” she said, “But having your cock that close
to me just drove me wild. I have always wanted you but didn’t quite
know how to aproach you.”
“Well, it was quite enjoyable, if unexpected. I never suspected
you were that foxy.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” she said
with a gleam in her eye.
All I could think about was to get her somewhere out of the way.
I searched my mind and had decided on getting a room when she took my
hand and led me from the game room to the elevator.
I had an idea she wanted it in the elevator, so when the doors
closed I embraced her and kissed her deeply. She responded eagerly, but
broke away and pushed a button. As the elevator rose she engulfed me
in a wild pationate embrace as she explored my mouth with her tongue.
Before I could explore her body the elevator arrived. She unentangled
herself and walked away beckoning me with her finger.
In the alcove with the ice and pop machines was another door
marked “LAUNDRY”. She entered and I followed.
As soon as the door closed she went to her knees and started
tugging at my zipper. I couldn’t believe how brash she was. I helped
her along, and as soon as my cock cleared my pants she engulfed it in
her mouth.
Exhibiting wild abandon, she really gave my cock a workout. As it
grew in her mouth, she vacuumed it up and stroked it with her tongue. In
no time it was at full staff, she was having a hard time getting it
all in her mouth. I concentrated on the blow job ’till I felt the
pressure build under my balls.
I pushed her away and she came reluctantly. I pushed her against
the wall and raised her sweater and bra so I could get at her petite
tits. Her nipples were like marbles between my lips and teeth. I tried
to poke them in with my tounge but they were too firm. As I was
sucking away at her tits I worked at her pants. I eased them down to
her knees and tugged at her panties. In my haste I guess I pulled too
hard, they ripped and came away in my hand. I threw them in the
corner, and traced a line with my tongue between her tits, down her
belly and straight to her pussy.
I was greeted by drenched bush. I parted her cunt lips and dove
on her snatch with my tongue. I pulled the hood from over her
clitorous and tongue lashed directly on her love button. She responded
by rotating her hips, and succeeded in drenching my faces with her love
juices. I could stand it no longer. I stood up and dropped my pants. I
grabbed her by the buns, and lifted her onto my cock. She let out a
sigh as she slowly sank on my engorged tool. Damn, her snatch was
tight. You would never have know she had had two kids, she was as
tight as a teenager. I braced her against a washing machine and
pounded into her furiously. She came quickly in a great shuddering
orgasm that threatened to milk my cum before I was ready.
I paused just long enough to turn her over on the machine and
mount her from the rear. Her tight snatch met every thrust as I
pounded into her, her pubic bone rubbing the tender spot under the
head of my cock. The pressure in my balls was getting almost too much
to contain, so I pulled all but the head from her dripping snatch.
I fucked her with short jabs with just the head, holding her buns
so she could not back onto my cock. The pressure subsided and stopped
my motion for a bit. She was straining to have my whole manhood deep
in the folds of her flesh, and I released my grip on her ass. With one
great rush, she impaled herself on my member. I held her to me, loving
the way her wet snatch was pressing on my balls. She reached back and
started playing with them. I figured that it was now or never. I
started building my strokes until I was ramming my dick furiously into
her tight snatch. She started playing with her clit and shuddered in
another orgasm.
The contractions of her pussy put me over the edge. I burried my
cock and shot great streams of sperm deep into her cunt. I could feel
her cunt expand with each spurt and soon it was filled to overflowing
and cum ozzed out onto my balls. I layed down on top of her and
luxuriated in the feeling of my dick in her cum-filled pussy as she
contracted her cunt around my shrinking cock.
She wordlessly pushed me away and picked up her panties, and wiped my
juice from her satch. She then went down and licked the droplets from
my balls and limp organ. Standing, she gave me a deep kiss.
We dressed in silence and made our way to the elevator. I pushed
the button for our floor, kissed her one last time, and allowed
her to go to her room as I continued down to the bar.
I had to have a couple of drinks to convince me that it wasn’t
just a dream.
I sipped each one reliving that fantastic fuck.
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