Behind the outward serenity and closed doors of middle-class suburban homes, we find people tormented by the same problems that have afflicted men and women throughout the ages.
While Americans today are leading "the good life", enjoying material comforts unheard of in other countries, people may still find themselves in an emotional turmoil, reinforced by the increasing alienation of our life-style.
Alice Fredericks is a typical suburban housewife. She is surrounded by material comforts. Yet her boredom and her husband's increasing neglect lead her into acts which she never dreamed she was capable of. With each day she finds herself set more irretrievably upon a path from which there is no turning back.
WAYWARD WIFE is a novel about this woman. A novel about the problems that may confront any woman when she makes the fateful decision to ignore society's prohibitions.
The Publisher
Chapter One
It was 3:30 in the afternoon and I had nothing to do. I had finished my washing and cleaning. It would be at least a couple of hours until it was practical for me to put the TV dinners in the oven so that supper would be on the table when George walked through the door. I felt as lifeless and listless as the dust mop standing over in the corner.
There wasn't even anything worth watching on television. Nothing but soap operas at this time of day. I couldn't stand to watch them. They made me so depressed. I guess the reason was that the characters were all so unhappy. Just like me.
Suddenly itching with tension and frustration, I got up and rearranged the furniture, moving one chair here, the coffee table over there. Then I stopped in the middle of it when I realized that it was the third time I'd moved the furniture this week.
I just left the coffee table right in the middle of the living room so that there was no way you could pass through the room without stepping around or over it. At least that would give me something to think about every time I crossed the room or I'd crash my shins into it. Come to think of it, at least the pain would take my mind off my boredom.
Where were the kids? It was summer. They were out someplace, and probably wouldn't be back until dinner when their father got home. I'd already fed them lunch so they'd lost interest in me until it was time for them to eat again. I found myself wishing that they were here now, even getting into mischief, so I could yell at them. The excitement of getting angry at them would have picked me up the way I was feeling.
I was so jumpy that I couldn't sit down and remain still, so I walked around the room smoking a cigarette. The ashes fluttered to the floor, but I didn't care. If enough of them got on the rug it would be dirty enough to clean again and that would give me something to do. I looked at making a mess as sort of an investment.
When I had finished my cigarette I stopped circling the room and looked around. Suddenly I realized that I couldn't stand to be in the living room another second. I was sick of it. If I stayed here another minute I'd start smashing the furniture.
Dashing into the bedroom, I threw myself across the bed, sobbing for lack of anything better to do. But finally the tears dried up because they really weren't connected with anything specific. If I had known exactly why I was so upset maybe my grief wouldn't have been so bad. However, the fact of the matter was that I couldn't explain why I was so unhappy.
My husband George made good money. He had a good job and was willing to buy whatever I needed for myself and the house. I had the best appliances money could buy to make housekeeping a snap, and a 24-inch color television set to watch whenever I felt like it. My two children were both normal and healthy. I had a closet full of clothes. There was a station wagon out in the driveway of our beautiful ranch-style home that I could drive anywhere I wanted to.
So what was wrong with my life? I didn't know. If I had been able to identify my problems I might have been able to do something about them. As it was, I felt like I was under a spell -- turned by some unseen force over which I had no control. I had everything I had thought I wanted when I'd married George at eighteen -- and yet here I was practically on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
I rolled over on the bed so that I was laying on my back. The bed faced a vanity table which had been in my family for years. My parents had given it to us as a wedding present. Before I had married George it had always been in our home, and now every morning when I woke up as a woman it was still the first thing I saw. It seemed like it had always been with me, as though it were part of me.
It had an enormous oblong mirror that reflected everything in the room. As I lay on the bed I could see myself in it, and I studied myself the way I had so many times over the years. When I was a girl and the vanity table was in my room, I had often fantasized that I was Alice peering into the looking-glass when I was alone. As a child I'd been sure that it was no coincidence my name was also Alice, just like the little girl in the fairy tale, and that if I concentrated long enough I would wind up in Wonderland just like the fictional Alice.
The truth was that I had never gotten over my fantasy about the mirror having magical qualities. Even now, at thirty-eight, some lingering residue of my childhood forced me to concentrate on the mirror during moments like this, hoping through my imagination to escape from reality into some fantastic wonderland.
I peered across the room at my face in the mirror. It was a pretty face, of that I was sure. People had always said so, ever since I was a little girl. Those who had known me as a child frequently remarked when they saw me now that my face was as innocent and fresh and youthful as it had been when I was eight.
I was proud of my looks, and kept my blonde hair long and free, just like a girl's. Some people hate their freckles, but I was glad I had never, outgrown mine. They kept me in touch with my childhood, a soothing consolation at moments like this when being grown up seemed like a one-way ticket into a maze of boredom and frustration.
My face and hair were the same, but the rest of my body had changed. As I looked from the bed into the mirror I could see the peaks of my breasts using from under the thin sweater I was wearing, not lessened in their firmness because I wasn't wearing a bra today. Even from across the room I could make out the erect shape of my nipples pressing through the clinging fabric.
I looked from the reflection of my breasts swelling under my sweater down to my bare legs. I had always been proud of them. They were long and shapely and perfectly complemented the paradoxical combination of my innocent-looking face and lush womanly breasts. I gazed appreciatively at them, beginning at my ankles and moving my eyes slowly along them until they disappeared beneath my skirt.
Alice in Wonderland? Over the years I must have spent hundreds or even thousands of hours staring into my own personal looking-glass, and I had never run into any fantastic characters like the March Hare or the Queen of Hearts. But I had discovered a substitute that was almost as effective at taking my mind off reality: the reflection of my body in the mirror.
I rested my hands on my stomach for a moment, placing my palms flat against my belly and feeling myself breathe. Then, as my breathing accelerated so that I was almost panting, I moved my hands downward and caught the hem of my skirt with my fingers.
As I drew my skirt up over my waist, I instinctively spread my legs, looking straight ahead into the mirror at the reflection of the bulging crotch of my sheer panties. They were an old pair that I had picked at random out of the dresser drawer this morning, and the crotch was worn to a thin gauze by frequent washings and the rub of my pussy against the cloth over a two- or three-year period.
My mouth watered at the sight of the folds of my pussy boldly pushing through the flimsy fabric. Even from across the room I could see the suggestion of the muffled tangle of my cunt hair massing to spring free, the whole mound of my pussy flexing pulsingly. The filmy, clinging panty cloth stretched tautly between my thighs, my cunt throbbing to be free.
I liked to tease myself during my magic moments alone with myself and the mirror. Knowing that my pussy craved its freedom, I led it on by sliding my fingers under the elastic top of my panties and gently rubbing my fingertips over my rubbery pussy lips. Inside I could feel the cunt juice started to bubble. Within seconds my pussy would be sopping wet.
When the pussy juice finally started to flow, I writhed uncontrollably, my thighs automatically spreading farther and farther apart until my panties were completely caught in my crack. I watched my cunt swallow my panty crotch, seeming to digest the flimsy cloth as the juice oozed out of the sides of my pussy, glazing my crotch. By now my hand had seized my cunt and was rubbing it in a circular motion. Every inch of my pussy was being stimulated at once.
Two of my fingers trapped my clit in a scissors-grip and squeezed it between them. The tiny nub grew until it was tingling erectly, throbbing with desire. My hips bucked wildly. My ass wriggled. My cunt throbbed more and more openly in the mirror, the crotch of my panties like a thin blue line bisecting my loins.
Now that I had teased my cunt to the point of no return, I peeled my panties off. They came stickily out of my crack as I rolled them wetly down my thrusting hips. Once they were off and heaped damply on the floor, I spread my legs widely, filling the mirror with the hairy image of my hotly open cunt.
I plunged my lingers into my pussy. Two fingers, and then three of them, licking my lips at the sight of being deeply fingerfucked by my own hand.
And then the doorbell rang.
Chapter Two
A door-to-door salesman. Brushes.
My life had become so boring that frequently I secretly welcomed one of these jokers ringing my bell, trying to sell me something I didn't want. At least it filled the time. The more I resisted, the more they talked, and the more time it killed.
But not today. Not now. I had a cunt between my legs that was ready to explode. I was afraid that if I got into a conversation with someone, within two minutes they would notice the pussy juice trickling down my legs.
I suppose I could have just not answered the door. But the minute I heard the bell ringing, the fragile atmosphere of my Alice-through-the-looking-glass fantasy had been ruptured. As the ringing persisted I became more and more convinced that if I tried to ignore it, whoever was at the door might come into the house anyway, catching me with my hand halfway up my cunt.
Standing there talking to him at the door, I prayed that I could get rid of him before the fact of my oozing cunt, drooling nakedly under my rumpled short skirt, became so obvious that it would embarrass both of us.
He was a tall, handsome young man, probably in his early twenties. He said he was working his way through the local university to become a veterinarian. He looked the part. He was fresh and rough-hewn like he had been raised on the healthy environment of a farm, getting involved with animals and the land while he was growing up, instead of drugs and cheap thrills like so many kids around these days. He had short brown hair and a jutting jaw. And even under his brown corduroy suit I could see that he had an exceptionally muscular body.
"I hope I haven't interrupted anything," he said, his azure-blue eyes meeting mine.
"Oh, no, no," I lied. "I was just waking up from a nap anyway."
"Well, then, may I come inside?" he said assertively but pleasantly.
"Uh, sure... sure," I said, unable to think of any other response to his polite insistence. "Come in and have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"No thanks," he said as he sat down.
He must have been about six-foot-four and over two hundred pounds without an ounce of fat on him. Standing in the doorway, walking across the room or sitting down, I could see that he was a beautiful hunk of man. And not the least of it, I suddenly noticed when he sat down and his pants stretched tightly against his crotch, was the huge corduroy bulge between his legs. Spontaneously, it occurred to me that at least five pounds of that two-hundred had to be his cock, judging from the provocative mound in his trousers.
"Do you have something cooking in the kitchen?" he asked, startling me with his unexpected question.
"Why do you ask?" I said, puzzled.
"Because you were licking your lips... like you were thinking about something good to eat," he said, smiling.
Was it my imagination or didn't the bulge between his legs seem to throb when he said that? I averted my eyes from him, trying to deny my interest in his crotch.
But it did no good. My cunt was foaming with uncontrollable desire, even hotter than it had been when I was fingerfucking myself in the mirror.
"Are you sure you don't want any coffee?" I asked again, trying to forget about the pulsing between my thighs.
"No," he said, "But don't let me stop you if you want some."
"Oh, no, that's all right," I said, trying not to betray my nervousness and taking a chair across from him. As I sat down, my skirt climbed to the tops of my thighs. Remembering that I had nothing underneath I gave it a tug, muttering in frustration under my breath.
"I'm sorry. What did you say?" he asked.
"Oh," I said. "I was just complaining to myself how short this skirt is. It's out of style, I'm afraid. I just wear it around the house."
"I think it's very attractive," he said, smiling. "If you're worried about what I think -- don't. Besides, you have no reason to complain. You have exceptionally beautiful legs."
"Thank you," I blushed.
"And you don't have to sit clear across the room, you know. I'll never be able to show you my samples unless you come over here to the couch." He patted the sample case he'd been carrying. But in some fantasizing corner of my brain I could see him patting that bulging crotch.
The way he looked across the room at me, I didn't see how I could say no without seeming to be impolite.
"Don't worry, I won't try and bite you... or try and sell you anything you don't want."
"I know you wouldn't," I said as I moved to sit beside him.
I could feel his eyes on my legs as my skirt slid up. I knew I should have put my panties back on before I answered the door. My skirt was within a couple of inches of the bush of my cunt and there was nothing to stop this stranger from seeing it if I made a false move. It would be bad enough if a stranger saw my pussy, but even more embarrassing when he noticed that it was absolutely sopping.
"You know," he said, putting his arm around me, "you are a very pretty girl."
I was so flattered that such a good-looking young guy had called me a girl I ignored my immediate reaction of being annoyed at his forwardness and let his arm remain unmolested around my shoulders.
"I'll bet you get lonely sitting around here alone all day," he said like he really understood my plight.
"As a matter of fact I do," I practically blurted, astonished at my candor. "But of course," I quickly tried to cover up, "I read quite a bit, and I have a few other interests."
"Like what?" he said, moving his body even closer to me.
"Oh, you know... you know," I stammered, totally at a loss to give any examples.
"Like playing with your pussy?" he said in a voice as calm and friendly as the one he'd used to introduce himself when I'd answered the door.
"I beg your pardon," I replied incredulously.
He didn't say anything. Instead he just looked down between my legs. My mouth flew open when I looked down, too, and saw that my skirt had wriggled halfway up my bare hips and half of my cunt was showing. A thick trickle of glistening goo oozed strikingly from the crimson slot in the center of my bush.
"I... I..." I stuttered, vainly trying to think of a denial for what was as obvious as both the nose on my face and the bare, moist pussy between my thighs.
"Don't be afraid," he said, reaching over my shoulder and squeezing one of my breasts, cupping my braless tit in his strong but gentle grip. "You want it, don't you?"
"No, actually I have all the brushes I'll ever need," I said.
"You don't have to play games with me," he said. "I've seen you looking at my cock ever since I sat down. You don't have to be ashamed that you want it."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," I said huffily, trying unsuccessfully to act as though his bulging cock and balls were the last things I had on my mind. Actually my brain was filled with their burning image, a picture of a long stiff prick and two throbbing testicles engorging my imagination.
"Oh, no, baby," he said, "you've got it all wrong. You wouldn't have answered the door with no panties on unless you were hoping ten inches of cock was waiting for you at the door."
Ten inches! My pussy started doing flip flops.
"No... no, you're wrong," I weakly protested. "I was... I was doing something in the bedroom."
"Playing with your pussy," he said. "See, I got you to admit it. I was right in the first place. Now why don't you just admit that you're horny as hell and let me split your pussy wide open with my cock. If you make me wait too long I'm afraid I'll tear my pants. Believe me, you've got me just as turned-on as you are. And there's only one thing that will cure it."
He pushed me back on the sofa and started lifting the bottom of my sweater. "No bra either," he said, just before my tits popped free and he gently grasped them, pushing them together so that he had both my nipples ensnared in a singe hand, squeezing them into turgid erectness. "You really want it, don't you?"
I was speechless. He manipulated me like I was his puppet, slipping my sweater over my head and tossing it to the floor so that I was nude from the waist up. Down below, my skirt was now bunched around my waist. My exposed cunt seemed to blaze like a glowing ember between my legs. A trickle of drool spewed from my gash, leaving a dark stain on the sofa.
Abruptly, his calm exterior cracked for the first time. He leaned over, crushing my body in his tit-caressing embrace and breathing hotly in my ear, "Yeah, baby, you're ready for it, aren't you? You're a hot little bitch. You need it all the time, don't you baby? Your husband can't begin to satisfy you."
I was mute. While my body helplessly writhed under his touch, one hand easing between my uncontrollably parting thighs while the other stroked my tits, I found myself blushing, unable to contradict him.
Immediately I realized that the reason for my inability to answer him was that, what he was saying was true. George was a dud in the sack.
When George did fuck me -- about once every couple of weeks when he wasn't too tired from trying to get ahead in the insurance business -- it was just a crude slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am, rolling off of me and falling asleep just as soon as he had come. Particularly over the last couple of years, more times than I cared to remember I had wound up laying flat on my back with a pussy full of sperm, squirming in frustration, far short of having come myself.
"It's true, isn't it?" the salesman said, slipping a finger inside my cunt and working it gently in and out, my pussy lips instinctively clinging to it as my senses began to boll. "Your husband doesn't satisfy you. He's too busy at the office to pay any attention to your needs. To your body. To your tits. To your cunt. To your hot, throbbing cunt. I can feel your pussy crying to be fucked."
Before I could answer he dropped his head down to my tits. His tongue darted out and flicked my left nipple. Then he sucked my right nipple into his mouth. I felt a warm, pulling sensation start rippling down my stomach and into my pussy. Another of his fingers squirmed to join the first one inside my cunt and I opened my legs to accommodate his thrust, losing control of myself. I moaned as he ran his large hand up and down my pussy, massaging it and fingerfucking it into a drooling frenzy.
"Are you ready for it now, baby?" he breathed huskily into the cleavage of my compressed tits. "Are you ready to find out what ten inches of steel feels like?" Slowly he slipped a third finger up my pussy and started to give me a three-pronged fingerfuck. It was the most delicious feeling I had experienced within memory.
"Yes, yes," I cried, giving in totally at last to my impulses. "Anything! Give it to me! Fuck me!"
"Say please."
"Please fuck me!" I cried. "Tear me apart with your cock!"
After what seemed like an eternity, he stood up, stripped off his coat and shirt, and then his pants. My eyes were glued to his body. I'd never seen such a man. His gigantic, twitching cock jumped out at me, putting fear into my heart and an incredibly squishy tightness in my cunt.
"I... I... I can't take that," I stammered, reaching out in wonder to touch his massive tool. Not only was it ten inches long, it was easily six inches around, more like a battering-ram than an organ of the human body. "It will kill me if you try and stick that inside me. My cunt won't be able to take it. I've never had anything that huge."
"I'll bet the truth of the matter is that you've never had anything but your husband's dinky worm," he said arrogantly. "That's why you can't take your eyes... and your hand... off my pride and joy."
He was right. My husband was the only man I'd ever fucked. And George had a cock that probably wouldn't make half of this one on the night of his biggest hard-on.
"Don't worry, baby," he said, "you'll be surprised how much your pussy can stretch for something it really wants. The fact that it's your first time with a man-sized prick will just make your pussy tighter around my cock. That's why I like to fuck your housewives -- you've got such nice little tight cunts from being starved for the real thing for so long. It's always a pleasure teaching a compact, cock-starved pussy to love twice as much meat as it's been used to. Now let's stop talking and get busy."
He clasped his hand around the waistband of my skirt and ripped it off of me with a singe jerk, sending the buttons clattering to the floor. I stood before him totally naked, my hand still encircling his throbbing cock, my mouth gaping open, and my breasts heaving while my pussy burned with unquenchable desire. The fear was eclipsed by lustful yearning, and I buried my inhibitions and begged him to fuck me.
He forced me down onto the couch and pulled my legs apart. His tongue swiped hungrily over his smiling lips as he regarded the hairy, open maw of my juicily spread pussy. As his mouth watered at the sight of my cunt, and his dick seemed to swell even more, I suddenly felt fantastically desirable, a feeling I hadn't experienced in my entire ten years of married life. Oh, God, how I wanted it!
"Please, please," I cried, "stick it in me! Fuck me now or I'll die!" A moment ago I was afraid that his immense cock was going to split me in two, and now I couldn't wait until it did? I was dying to feel my pussy ripped apart by his fantastically stiff bludgeon.
He eased down and rolled on top of me. I felt his huge cock-head at my pussy lips. He eased it into the opening of my pussy hole, then shoved gently. His monstrous, throbbing cock began to slip slowly into my cunt, thrillingly engorging my fucking canal inch by delicious inch.
"Oh Christ, that feels good," I moaned. "Fuck me, you bastard, fuck me!"
He reached down, spread my pussy lips as open as they would go, and gave a hard shove. The gentleness was over as I felt his prick ram into my cunt all the way to his eye balls. As his cock pulsed and thrusted inside my pussy I was sure that its head had surged all the way into my stomach. Then he pulled his cock all the way out to the head before plunging it back in again to the hilt. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," I screamed, biting his shoulder. "Oh God, fuck me!"
"Scream, baby, scream," he said. "When your old man comes home tonight, you can tell him what it feels like to be fucked by a real cock." He fucked me hard, and I met each of his thrusts with an upward one of my own, performing tricks with my gyrating pelvis of which I had never known I was capable.
"This is the best fuck I've ever had," I moaned each time he rammed his cock all the way to the stretching limits of my incredibly elastic pussy. "My cunt will never be the same. Ram that monster in my cunt. Fuck me, make me scream. Split me in two. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
I was so excited that I raised my head so I could watch his beautiful cock slide in and out of my tightly gasping cunt. Just watching the pumping motion of his sleek tool in my pussy was enough to make me start coming. I started to whimper, and then groan, louder and louder, until I was screaming at the top of my lungs, begging to be fucked harder and harder, deeper and deeper, more and more brutally. My pussy throbbed and spasmed and sucked and shuddered as I came like I'd never come before.
I was still screaming when he placed his hands under my legs and pushed them up to my shoulders. Then he dropped to his knees between them and rammed his horn of a cock into me like an enraged bull, deliciously goring me. In and out it traveled, until my cunt began to constrict and the volume of my screaming increased to a deafening wail. I'd already come mare in a few minutes with this big-dicked stranger than I ever had with my puny endowed husband, and it seemed like I was just beginning, my cunt creaming like someone had emptied a jar of mayonnaise between my legs.
When my lungs were burning and I had temporarily ceased to scream, he pulled his wet cock out of my foaming pussy and pushed me toward a chair.
"Bend over the chair," he commanded. "I'm going to dog-fuck you like the animal my cock has turned you into."
I did as he ordered, feeling complimented that he'd recognized I was nothing more than a bitch in heat. I gasped with delight when he promptly leaned over my naked back to plunge his huge prick into my gaping pussy.
The sensation of the full ten inches of his cock filling the core of my body from behind was more than I had bargained for, even in my unquenchable lust. "Oh my God," I yelled. "You're going to rip me apart!"
"No, no, baby," he whispered hotly in my ear as he hunched over me, mercilessly fucking me. "That's the beauty of being dog-fucked by a giant prick like mine. It just feels that way. You get all the thrills of feeling like you're being fucked to death, only you wake up the next morning as good as new, ready to go again. Actually your cunt was just made for a cock like mine. A big, thick cock. Your cunt fits me like a glove."
His prick made wet sucking sounds as it went in and out of my pussy. Then, after about forty massive strokes, he gave one mighty thrust and buried his sword-like dick in me to the hilt, his rolling balls squashing maddeningly against my hopelessly aroused clit at the top of my cunt. There was no alternative but to scream like he was branding me with a red-hot poker when I felt his sizzling hot come shoot up into the convulsing depths of my pussy.
He pulled out, then rammed it in again, repeating the process over and over again as his cock spurted endlessly up my cunt. The center of my body was swamped with his thick fluid, all my internal organs feeling like they were drowning in the ocean of his sperm. And my own coming soared to new heights, the orgasmic feeling within me totally dominating my body so that I shivered like I was having a massive seizure.
Then, finally, after what seemed an eternity of spurting, he stopped ejaculating and draped limply over me with his cock still in my pussy. His rich come started rolling thickly out of me. It ran down my legs in a syrupy torrent as he slowly withdrew his spent prick and moved back to the couch. To my astonishment, his cock was still standing straight up as he sat down, despite the obvious exhaustion of the rest of his body. It was like his fabulous cock was an entity separate from the rest of him, operating with a mind and nervous system of its own.
The incredible sight of his cock, still impossibly standing after all that had happened, turned me on more than ever before. George always went limp after a mere two or three minutes of what he called fucking, and here this guy looked like he could screw forever, even after coming like a fire-hydrant in my aching pussy. Suddenly the only thing I wanted in the world was more!
"You son of a bitch," I said boldly, the harshness of my words astounding me. "You've fucked my pussy until it's sore and think you can just let it go at that. Well, you better catch your breath, because now I'm going to fuck you!"
I straddled his legs and grabbed his still-hard cock. With excitedly fumbling fingers, I guided the head of his fantastic tool to my sopping-wet pussy and slammed down on it. He was up to his balls again in my cunt and I loved it.
As I watched his huge prick drive into my hungry pussy again, I went insane with arousal. I bounced up and down on his cock furiously. He grabbed my pulsing tits and hung on for dear life while I turned the tables, sliding my pussy on his greasy pole until he was babbling in exotic agony, the total prisoner of my fiery loins.
My cunt throbbed and tightened until I thought it would shred his meat into hamburger. The noose of my pussy seized his prick at the root and came just short of snapping within me that it seemed to engorge my womb. His cock was buried so deep within me that I felt like it was part of me, and that I would spend the rest of my life with ten inches of male organ wedged irrevocably between my legs.
My coming grew beyond all limits of definition, the orgasmic flames licking against the banks of my soul until I was a primitive, shrieking animal, frothing at the mouth in my quest for release. When it was abruptly over, I felt like I had been kicked in the head by a mule, consciousness instantaneously escaping me, my senses being inundated in a black pool as the lights went out.
Chapter Three
"Mom, mom, are you all right?" I heard Bobby's familiar voice piercing through the leaden veil that enveloped me. "Did you have an accident, mom? Where are your clothes?"
Yes, that's right, son came in and found me lying in a naked, oozing heap on the living-room floor, fucked out of my mind. That bastard brush salesman hadn't even had the decency to cover me up before he'd left. All he'd been interested in was an easy fuck, and then he'd forgotten all about me.
If it hadn't been for Bobby, God knows what would have happened when George came home from the office and found me like this, nakedly unconscious on the floor with my cunt drooling rancid sperm like it was an open wound.
"What's the matter, mom?" I could hear Bobby asking worriedly. I opened my eyes and saw him tugging nervously at the bill of his baseball cap. "It looks like something's wrong between... between your legs," he stammered with concern. "Did somebody hit you between your legs?"
"Is that what it looks like?" I muttered, stalling for time until my head cleared and I could think of a believable explanation for my nudity and the sopping condition of my cunt.
"Gee, mom," he said, "it looks like somebody hit you with a coconut cream pie. Just like on television, except between the legs instead of in the face."
I breathed a sigh of relief. At nine he was still so innocent. Here he was, standing there looking right down into his mother's shockingly open, fuck sloppy pussy, and all he could think of was something he'd seen on cartoons Saturday mornings.
"Mom had an accident," I said. "And remember, not a word to anyone. Promise?"
"I guess so."
Breathing a deep sigh of relief, I picked up my scattered clothing and fled into the safety of the bedroom. Anxious to get rid of the evidence, I threw my rumpled skirt and sweater into the dirty-clothes basket and got ready to go into the bathroom and bathe the come from my body. But before I left the bedroom I stood for a moment in front of the vanity table and looked at myself one last time in the huge mirror, checking the reflection of my naked body to confirm what had happened to me this afternoon wasn't just some figment of my imagination.
I put a foot up on the dresser, pulling the folds of my cunt revealingly apart so I could see everything. The interior of my pussy was like an open tunnel in the mirror, the pink flesh teeming with the milkiness of the male come it had swallowed. My thighs were glazed with congealed sperm, resembling the glistening dough of fresh doughnuts in a bakery. My crotch was so battered and oozing and pulpy and moist that it looked like it had been chewed up and spit out, a masticated victual that would never be the same. I tried to be angry at the nameless salesman for callously abandoning me, but the only honest emotion I could summon was a yearning to have something like him happen all over again at the earliest opportunity.
I tried to deny it to myself, but something told me that that afternoon had changed my boring, humdrum life. I was never going to be satisfied with just George again. There were going to be no more boring afternoons if I could help it, of that I was sure.
I eased into the bath water, feeling its warmth envelop my bare skin. Looking between my legs I could see the starchy gobs of sperm being washed away from my flooded pussy. My cunt hair wafted snakily in the clear water, gossamer tendrils that seemed to be reaching out for something.
Gazing at my cunt in the clear water I suddenly and uncontrollably found myself turned on all over again. It seemed incredible to me that I could find myself so hot only a short time after such a thorough fuck. Once every two weeks from George used to be too much for me, and now all of a sudden I was turned-on for the third time today -- once in front of the vanity-table mirror... with the brush salesman's huge cock pumping in and out of my pussy in three different positions... and now, totally unexpectedly, here in the bathtub with the warm water lapping against my cunt.
I didn't have to put my hand between my thighs and feel my clit to know that it was erect -- a female hard-on -- but I did anyway. The male come washing from my cunt was joined by the cloudy discharge of an instantaneous flow of pussy juice. I draped a leg over the side of the tub, spreading my snatch so I could see it all.
Below my cunt my asshole was clearly throbbing, seeming to call for some stimulation. I realized that I was going to have to do something about the inferno between my legs or I was never going to get the TV dinners on the table far tonight's supper. It was a case of making myself come again, or dinner would never be ready and I'd have to deal with a hungry husband and two starving kids. And when George didn't get what he wanted, when he wanted it, the bastard was hell on wheels.
Anxious to get it over with, I reached for the rubber bag with the tube connected to it that was wound around a hook on the wall next to the bathtub. I submerged the bag and filled it with hot water from the tub, reinserting the tube and hanging the bag above me as I prepared to give myself the enema I suddenly craved more than anything.
I rubbed the black plastic nozzle with a bar of soap for lubrication, and then pressed it to my anus. My asshole was puckering anticipation, quivering to be penetrated.
I shoved the hose, and as it passed a certain spot, my cunt started to tighten, and I knew this was going to be good. As my bowels filled with hot water, I thrust my hand into my open pussy mangling it with my gouging fingers. In an instant I was fingerfucking myself with half of my hand, and massaging my stiff clit with the rest of it, bucking my hips as my insides filled with hot fluid.
Then my hips jerked and the enema nozzle spurted from my ass with a torrential burst of water. At the same time, a whole new flow of pussy juice gushed within my cunt. I started to come in an absolutely terrifying fashion, in the pussy and ass at once.
The fact that the bathwater was darkening with my shit bothered me not at all as I writhed in the soup of my own pungent excretion, loving every sloppy minute of it. My cunt and ass seemed to fuse together in a singe incredibly palpitating organ of intense pleasure, the white heat between my legs melting any baffler between them. They constricted and spasmed, each tightening into a knot while my convulsing bowels depleted themselves and my fingers fucked my pussy all the way to the mouth of my womb.
As my body shook in the final throes of a twin anal-and-pussy orgasm, a last burst of hot water spurted from my asshole and bounced against the tub walls, almost seeming to be some sort of unprecedented rectal-come. Laying back against the rear of the tub and sighing in sensual exhaustion, I was sure that it was.
Chapter Four
George was in the middle of some big insurance deal, and from day to day was hardly aware that I was alive. Oh, sure, he would have screamed plenty if I'd stopped washing his clothes and putting food on the table in front of him. But the same result would have occurred if he'd had a maid that quit unexpectedly.
As long as I didn't fuck somebody at the dinner table, George was too preoccupied to notice anything peculiar about me. Life with George could be handled with a few judiciously spaced "Yes dears," and that would take care of all the response he required or cared for from his wife. To George a wife was another utilitarian object like his car -- as long as it didn't give him any trouble, he didn't pay any attention to it. He was the kind of man from whom indifference was a compliment, by his way of thinking.
Meanwhile, the children were giving me a wide berth as usual. They behaved like there were junior hotel guests, and I was the hotel management, desk clerk, chef, bellboy and chambermaid all rolled into one. Previously, the way my children ignored me had bothered me. But after the brush salesman helped me discover the fires raging within me, I started to see their indifference as a blessing, because it meant they would leave me alone to do the things I now realized I must do in order to keep my sanity.
Obviously, the only way for a housewife to keep from going out of her mind was through sex, sex, and more sex. The only way I could cancel out the humdrum nature of my lot as human dust mop for this family was to stop needlessly thwarting my sensuality, and start living out the fantasies that had been secretly brewing in the recesses of my mind for years.
I found myself craving only the most vigorous, stiffest cocks, pricks that could fuck me as long as I wanted without tiring. I'd had enough of popguns like George's that had one pitiful shot in them and then collapsed. To help satisfy my yearning I put an ad in the local paper for a teenager to mow our lawn, and waited with a chronic burning in my pussy for some results.
The day the ad appeared in the paper I stood on the porch of the house and looked at the empty street, hoping for the sight of a young man to take me up on my offer. I had no idea how long I stood there -- time had a way of marching swiftly now that I was in the grip of cock-fever.
Then, just as I was getting ready to go back into the house, someone came weaving to the crest of the hill on a ten-speed bike.
He was blond, about five feet ten inches tall, and of medium build, brimming with the health and vigor of tireless youth, exactly what I wanted. As he strode toward the porch I sucked in air quickly. He had a decidedly sexy look about him that was quickly apparent to my yearning gaze.
He stopped just short of the first step of the porch, looked up at me and smiled pleasantly. He was, I thought, a very handsome teen. I tried my damndest not to let my mouth water so much that I'd scare him off.
"Hello," he said cheerfully. "I saw your ad in the paper. I'm looking for summer work, and mowing lawns is right up my alley."
I smiled down at him in just the right manner. Friendly without being too friendly... prettily without seeming too flirtatious... sensuously without permitting it to be brazen. "Come inside," I invited, trying to sound proper and conceal my churning, pussy-tightening emotions. "Let's talk about the terms."
"You mean I'm hired already," he said with a surprised grin. "Great!"
Tingling from his enthusiasm, I opened the door and beckoned for him to follow me into the house. I was glad that the air conditioning was on because it gave me a reason to close the door behind us, creating the privacy I craved for what I had in mind.
"Why don't you have a seat," I said to him, gesturing to a chair directly across from the sofa.
After he was seated I settled on the couch, taking care that my skirt crept up my shapely thighs so he couldn't help but get a good look at my charms. I was pleased as I took note of the quick movement of his eyes toward my legs. Then he flushed and breathed deeply, obviously conscious of the goodies I was just beginning to flash at him.
"Did you want me to work one day a week, or what?" he asked, apparently making a strong attempt to look me directly in the eyes and not permit himself to steal another glance at my exposed thighs. I thought he was too cute for words.
"Why don't you see how things work out today, and then we'll take it from there," I said. I kept my voice pitched low and alluring, sounding just inviting enough to keep him interested in more than merely mowing my lawn, but not attempting any out-and-out sexual innuendoes just yet. There were a few things I wanted to find out about him first before I came on so strong there would be no turning back.
He was nodding his head as he leaned forward, resting his tanned arms on his widely spread legs. Yes, there was more than a faint bulge in the crotch of his faded jeans. "I'd be glad to work as much and as often as you want me to, ma'am." He coughed slightly, obviously nervous. "I'll do anything to you, ma'am... Er, excuse me, I didn't say that right. I meant I'll do anything for you."
I leaned forward on purpose, carefully gauging my movements to slowly turn him on. It was a move designed to make my skirt creep up even higher on my thighs, and it worked. My skirt was now about as high as it would go. And since I had purposely left off my panties when I had dressed this morning, I knew the guy could see the beginning suggestion of my hairy, sopping cunt. It was just a matter of time.
From the expression on his face, he was not only aware of my bare pussy, he was quite excited about having seen it.
I teased him a little. "Is there something wrong?" My eyes were riveted on his. Then they slid down to the well of his crotch. His jeans were bulging more than ever.
"Uh... uh, no, ma'am," he stammered, fighting to keep himself under control. "Uh, by the way, my name is... my name is Ron Manning." He looked completely bewildered.
"Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself," I apologized. "I'm Mrs. Fredericks. Alice Fredericks."
He smiled nervously, revealing a sparkling row of white, healthy teeth. "I'll do a good job on you... I mean on your lawn, Mrs. Fredericks."
I pondered his two apparent slips of the tongue. Maybe he was sharper than I was giving him credit for. Was he perhaps playing a little game, too... with me?
I decided to find out. I'd make an overt statement, one that I could draw back from if necessary. "Ron," I said, "I'm sure you will do a good job... on..."
I glanced down at the carpet on purpose, but only for an instant -- just long enough for him to register a reaction to my words, but still providing me the opportunity to glance back up at him quickly and catch his response.
The look on his face, I noted with pleasure and excitement, was one of complete and utter lust.
He was hooked!
I didn't bother to discuss the details of the so-called job. Instead, I asked him where he lived, the words tumbling out of my mouth rapidly so I could get the preliminaries out of the way. When he told me he lived in the adjoining suburb, I informed him he could have the job at ten dollars a day. Having taken care of this, I quickly stood up and lifted my skirt over my hips as if I were trying to straighten it. I held it just high enough far the bottom of the moist triangle of my cunt to briefly show, and then reluctantly allowed the skirt to drop back into place, feeling pussy juice trickle down my inner thighs.
The guy was on his feet, his eyes bulging out of his head like he'd just seen a Martian. He was panting like a dog.
"Ron," I said, "will you do me a great big favor, please?" I glanced at him almost primly, playing my act for all it was worth, luring him deliberately into my trap so that he would never be able to escape once I had him ensnared.
"Sure... sure," he stuttered. "Any anything you want, ma'am."
I drooped my eyelids in wordlessly sensuous communication and turned sideways so he could get a profile view of my full tits. I had never felt so confident of my sexiness as I did with this young man, and didn't doubt the conclusion of our meeting for a moment. It was just a matter of time before we were entangled nakedly with each other, his fine cock hotly engorging my hungry pussy.
"Ron," I said softly, "did you say anything I want?"
"Yes, Mrs. Fredericks. After all, you've just hired me to work for you for twice as much money as I expected."
"Anything, Ron?" I asked again. I was eyeing him with open lust now, not caring that he saw the wanton look in my eyes, the carnal expression on my face.
His cheeks were tinged with red, but he did not flinch at my boldness. "Yes, Mrs. Fredericks... I'll do anything to you... I mean for you."
The time for playing games was definitely over. I was so hot I thought I was going to explode. My cunt was like a sizzling firecracker. My tits throbbed achingly.
Slowly I removed my blouse and tossed it over a chair. Then I unhooked my bra and pulled it free of my body with tantalizing slowness. My hard, round tits tumbled nakedly into the young man's startled view. His astonished gasp filled the otherwise silent room.
"Ron," I said, my eyelids almost closed in horny dreaminess, "Will you please fuck me?"
He stood frozen like a statue in the middle of the room, his only movement the throbbing of the immense bulge in the crotch of his jeans. I went to him and dropped to my knees, my face mere inches from his pulsing cock and balls. With my hand shaking slightly, I anxiously reached for the tab on his zipper and pulled it down.
I licked my lips as I saw just how hard he already was, his prick straining hugely against the light fabric of his underpants. This was going to be even better than I had expected.
"Are... are you going to suck it?" he summoned up enough courage to ask, his voice wavering from nervousness.
"Suck what?" I teased him.
"My... my..." he stammered.
"Say it," I ordered, wanting to hear that delicious word.
"My cock," he managed. "Are you going to suck my cock?"
"If you want me to, Ron. If you want me to, I'll suck your cock all the way down to your balls. And then when I've had my fill of your prick, you can fuck me. I'll get down on the floor and spread my legs so my pussy is wide open and you can see everything, and then you can stick your hot, throbbing prick in it and fuck me until we both come." Oh, God, how I loved talking to him like this! "Do you want me to suck you, Ron? Do you want to fuck me?"
"Oh Jesus yes," he gulped.
Shaking with horniness, I snaked my eager hand inside his jeans and through the slit in his cotton underpants, wrapping my fingers around his fat cock, feeling it pulse thickly in my grasp.
His cock was burning so intensely with adolescent desire that I almost drew back in shock from the heat. But I held on for dear life, wrapping my fingers around his throbbing tool with panting glee.
His fantastic teenage cock was out of his pants now, long and hard and uncontrollably twitching, the most delicious thing I'd ever seen. Without hesitating any longer I thrust my mouth over the head, feeling its sweetness immediately inundating my reeling senses.
The instant he felt his prick being sucked, he went wild, reaching down to grab my head as he began to frantically fuck me in the mouth. Within seconds, his cock was all the way down my throat, his tight balls squashing against my chin.
I was so excited and hot from the mouth fucking he was giving me that I was already having miniature orgasms, one following on the heels of the other in devastating fashion. The more choking the penetration of his cock became, the more I loved it, reveling in my gagging fight for breath.
Grabbing his trousers at the waist, I pulled his jeans and underpants off his hips, anxious to get all our clothes off us so we could roll nakedly on the floor, going all the way... a teen and a mature, married woman. Quickly all his clothing was heaped on the floor, and my skirt was off, and we were both completely nude. I had kept my promise about sucking his cock and now I was dying to fuck.
I collapsed lewdly on the floor, spreading my legs as far apart as possible so that my open, hairy cunt became the oozing focal point of my body. His prick was so hard that when he dropped between the obscenely inviting well of my thighs, it actually caused pain in my pussy region. A wonderfully bruising pain that I couldn't get enough of.
"Hurt me," I moaned. "Hurt me, fuck me, hurt me!"
Grasping his cock firmly, I steered the wildly agitated organ to the mouth of my slobbering pussy lips. I could feel his prick-head chafe maddeningly against the ultra-sensitive gates of my womanhood.
He had a long, slim cock, designed like a rapier.
It had no difficulty in sliding into my pussy all the way to the hilt on the first thrust. My cunt squeezed around it tightly, clasping his prick in a perfect frenzy of rapture, while my hips bucked out of control.
He battered my body as only young men can do, with a lightning speed and surging penetration that went deeper with every sharp stroke. The intensity of my ceaseless orgasms continued to increase now that he was within me, my lungs gasping for air as I deliriously accepted his pumping, swollen cock in my pussy.
When he came it seemed as though he were unleashing eighteen years of stored-up sperm in my cunt, bathing my insides with an ocean of teeming stickiness. I was determined to drain him of every drop of his marvelous goo, doing things with my cunt that I wouldn't have believed I was capable of, wringing his prick like I was trying to rip it off his body.
He was no jack-off artist, I told myself, as his spurting went on and on, filling my pussy cavity to unbelievable proportions with his steaming come. It was the greatest sexual thrill I'd ever experienced, being the recipient of perhaps fifteen years of accumulated cock juice.
Finally his scalding offering stopped. However, he continued to fuck me as though he were just starting, his cock shooting in and pulling out of my cunt at an even faster rate of speed than before he'd come.
His boundless energy seemed to turn me on even more than the fact of his cock engorging my pussy, and it was then that I had my greatest orgasm. The spasming was so intensely shuddering that had I not had been anchored under his muscular body, I would have jack-knifed in agonizing ecstasy. The possibility of being infinitely fucked by this junior super-stud was more than I could bear without feeling like I was flying apart in tingling sensuous joy. I had no choice but to scream to release some of my bubblingly pent-up excitement.
"My God," I cried, "are you going to fuck me forever?" I prayed that the answer was yes, yes, yes!
But he said nothing, his thrusting loins and stabbing prick doing the talking for him. His naked body continued to pump ceaselessly away at my clutching cunt, his cock, if anything, growing stronger by the second.
And then once again he was pouring his scalding goo into my cunt. All the orgasms I had experienced were surpassed by a new climax so cataclysmic that I couldn't believe it was happening to me. I was coming so hard as he spurted within me that I was beyond screaming as a means oh expressing my joy, and began whimpering like a tortured puppy. I was totally helpless... completely subservient to the rampaging cock that was splitting my loins.
But no matter how I reacted, the young man paid no attention. He was completely single-minded, concentrating entirely on the business at hand-fucking my guts out, and filling the depths of my cunt with bucket after bucket of fresh semen.
Eventually, the spurting stopped again, but not the pumping of his prick. His cock was as hard as ever, and even more active. I gasped as I realized he was trying for yet another ejaculation, a third explosion in my cunt.
I was on the verge of total exhaustion, my pussy starting to ache from the reaming it had taken. However, the limitations of my body seemed meaningless as I found myself praying that he could once again manage to come inside me.
I pressed my hands palms downward on his bare ass, holding him in place on top of my slippery, sweat-slickened flesh. To keep him pumping away inside me I wrapped my legs around his, hooking my toes underneath his calves for a firmer grip. Finding his mouth with my lips, I started kissing him passionately as he fucked me with the wild, reckless, tireless fury that only a young man could possess.
God, how wonderful it was to have a young man on top of my nude body, pumping a swollen cock into my cunt. This was what I wanted out of life. I pitied all the poor women in the world who were stuck with just their tired, office-weary husbands as their only source of fucking.
As though he could read my mind, the young man placed his hands under my ass and clutched my buns fiercely, accelerating his furious fucking movements. His cock went deeper and deeper within me until it seemed to engorge my belly, filling me with its tumescence.
"Oh God," I moaned, breaking off from our kiss as another orgasm shook me to the roots of my being, "you're going to kill me. You're going to fuck me to death."
He came in me at that precise moment. His come was as thick and rich and hot as it had been the first time. "Oh Jesus God," he cried, the first words he had spoken since I had steered his prick into my cunt.
His cock squirted once more, he shuddered, and then proved that he was human after all by collapsing on top of me, at last ceasing to move within me.
He lay motionless on top of me, his entire weight resting on me, too weary to move a muscle. It had been fantastic having him come and come and come again inside me, but now it was heavenly having this nude and sweaty young man draped on top of me, crushing me with his exhaustion.
But the best part of it was that, despite his exhaustion, his cock miraculously remained as hard as ever inside my cunt. I couldn't believe it, and was sure that it was just a matter of time before it would finally go soft.
"You're a wonderful fucker, Ron," I told him, patting him affectionately on his hard ass.
"You're... awful good... too," he panted.
"Doesn't it ever go soft on you?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
"I... I don't know," he gasped.
"What do you mean?"
"Well... I, uh... I've never had it up a woman's cunt before," he said, obviously shy about his admission. "But I think I could fuck you until the sun goes down, Mrs. Fredericks... You don't mind me talking like this... dirty, do you?"
"No," I laughed. "As a matter of fact, I love it. In fact, I'd like to hear you say that word again, Ron. Please say it again."
"Which word? You mean... fuck? Is that what you want to hear?"
"Yes," I literally drooled, repeating it myself, long and slowly. "Fuuuuuuck."
And then while I was starting to uncontrollably writhe anew under his body, secretly hoping to get him to come a fourth time, he said, "Ma'am... uh, Mrs. Fredericks, could I ask you a favor?"
"Certainly," I said, tingling in anticipation.
"Would you let me... could I pull out of you and... well, could I eat your pussy?"
I was human, and there was no way I could resist a request as innocently put as his. "Of course," I said eagerly, "I'd love nothing more. There's only one condition."
"What... what's that?" he gulped.
"You've got to let me suck your prick while you're eating my pussy. And Ron..."
"Yes."
"You've got to come in my mouth. The day won't be complete until I've tasted your sperm. Do you think you're up to it?"
He didn't say anything. He just pulled his cock out of my cunt with a deafening slurp and crawled backwards on his hands and knees. In an instant he'd dropped flat on his stomach and buried his face in my palpitating crotch. I closed my eyes and reveled in it as his tongue began to caress the ultra-sensitive nooks and crannies of my pussy, orgasmic activity quickly welling within me with savage intensity.
"Swing around," I instructed. "Stick your cock in my mouth while you're eating me."
Obediently he twisted his body around, his mouth like a suction-cup on my cunt while he turned, driving me wild. Now he was on his hands and knees, his legs straddling his upper body as I looked up and got ready for his long, stiff, hot, throbbing cock.
His prick loomed sweetly above me in magnificent unflagging erection. Oh, how I wanted to taste it and have him come in my mouth.
But before I got my way I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted every experience behind me before I tasted the final one, the treasure of his precious fluid.
"Stick your tongue in my cunt," I said from beneath him.
I shuddered with ecstasy as he did so.
"Now pump me with it," I ordered. "Move it in and out like it was a prick. Fuck me with it. Tongue-fuck me."
He quickly did so, reaming my pussy with his oral tool so that my body writhed with orgasmic delight.
Now I turned my attention to his asshole, which was directly above me, a flawless rosebud of puckering perfection. Grasping his waist with both hands, I pulled my face up close to it. With my heart pounding so fast that I couldn't distinguish one beat from another, I licked his sweet anus repeatedly.
"Jesus!" he cried into the maw of my cunt, his tongue automatically thrusting into me another fantastic inch.
Now I moved on from his asshole to his balls, pulling his loins down toward me so I could hungrily lap their throbbing roundness. First one, and then the other was in my mouth, as I sucked them just enough to drive him crazy. And the crazier I drove him, the more his tongue surged up my pussy, orally fucking me beyond belief.
At last it was time for his cock, standing marvelously out from his loins. "Give it to me," I cried, releasing his balls. "Fuck me in the mouth. Drown me with your come."
He lifted his body slightly, pushing his prick backward just enough so I could catch the tip of it with my nibbling lips. Once I had it, there was no way for him to wriggle free as I ravenously gobbled it inch by inch. Finally he was laying down flat on my face, his legs shooting back and straddling my head as I sucked him to the hilt.
While he continued to tongue-fuck my cunt, his cock surged halfway down my throat, swelling beyond all previous proportions. I struggled to breathe, and then gave it up as irrelevant, happy to gag on this young man's once-in-a-lifetime tool.
His prick was so hard and long and sweet. There was no doubt in my mind that I could have sucked it for a week.
But that much endurance wasn't necessary. About three minutes of tongue-fucking my pussy and fucking my mouth was all my randy teenager could take before he started to come for the fourth time. He went off in my mouth like a geyser, choking me with his scalding semen. I swallowed as quickly as I could, but it wasn't fast enough to catch it all. The sloppy goo burst from the corners of my mouth, shooting up into my nasal passages and trickling from my nostrils.
As he refilled my mouth repeatedly with spurt after spurt of come, down below he pressed his tongue all the way into the mouth of my uterus, adding to the thrill of his spurting dick in my mouth by engorging my fuck-happy cunt to the ultimate.
I became dizzy, my senses finally caving in from the ceaseless intensity of it all. As I closed my eyes, and allowed myself to be carried off into space, I couldn't help but ask myself one last question, wondering for the hundredth time: where does he get it all?
The lawn? Needless to say, it never got mowed that day. Later I decided I'd have to hire a eunuch to mow it if the job was ever going to get done.
Chapter Five
Those afternoons with Ron when he was allegedly mowing my lawn really began to make my day. At first they came up once or twice a week. Then, three times weekly as my appetite for lust steadily grew.
By late summer I was having to feed the family Hamburger-Helper without any hamburger in it to make ends meet on my now-depleted household budget, ten-dollar bill after ten-dollar bill going out of the house money for my "gardening" bill. And, of course, meanwhile, the lawn grew more and more unruly, looking rattler every day because nobody was actually keeping it up, even though the bill was enormous.
One of these days it was for sure George was going to figure out something funny was going on. After he'd tripped in the weeds, probably, and jarred his brains by falling on his fat ass. Then there'd be six kinds of hell to pay. George had a particularly vicious temper when it came to money. The bastard's mind had always seen everything in terms of dollars and cents.
Actually, you could've said George was generous because he bought so many things for his family. In fact I'd thought so myself for a long time, and punished myself for not being grateful enough. But lately I'd begun to notice that George only provided us with things that the neighbors could notice, so they'd be sure and know old George Fredericks was keeping up with the Joneses.
At last I'd started to realize that George wasn't so great on providing things that were not apparent to the rest of the world -- things between the two of us. He gave me money to spend, for instance, but it was like I was a child on an allowance. And he parceled out sex like his supply was running dry.
Then there was time. It was all spent on his job. He'd been up to his ears in that Goddamn insurance racket from the first day he got out of junior college and landed the job at H & R Mutual Life. He'd always said he was doing it for us. That we had to make some sacrifices now so we could be sure of a good life later on.
"Fuck it!" I hissed. I was standing on the front porch, the weeds waving in front of me, thinking about how George had painted me into a corner of always living for tomorrow.
"Just fuck it!" I repeated, suddenly regarding the weeds in triumph, as though they were a symbol of my rebellion against always doing what I was told. Against being nothing more than a human dust mop. "I want to live for today!"
I was tired of constantly doing things by indirection... doing something today so that it would presumably have some desired effect days, or perhaps months, in the future. Sometimes it was even supposed to take years... like money you kept putting in the bank for the future.
When was the future, anyway? I was alive now!
And I was still young. And pretty. And sexy. And horny.
And right now I was getting squishy between the legs just thinking about it.
Without hesitation I automatically slid my hand under the waist of the cut-off jeans I was wearing. I was glad I was panty-less as I felt my fingers immediately touch my bare cunt. My pussy lips oozed against my probing fingers, bathing them with a hot milk of arousal. I was so hot that my cunt seemed like it was melting.
So turned on that my mouth was literally watering, my thoughts turned automatically to getting it on. Images of a long, slim teenager's cock squishing in and out of a succulent, mature pussy filled my mind. My brain was an erogenous zone and, suddenly, being fucked was all I could think of.
And sucking, too.
The images transformed into a big sweet cock filling a mouth, lipstick smearing a crimson track along the shaft of a prick.
I ran my tongue hungrily over my lips at the mere thought of a cock in my mouth.
My pussy spasmed as I tickled my clit and realized that I wouldn't be satisfied until I wound up with a prick inside it.
I promised myself that first I would taste it, and then I would fuck it.
Yes, this was the big change in my life over the summer. Where before I had repressed my horniness, now I sought to fulfill my wildest desires. Before we had had the cleanest house in the suburb, I was so busy washing and cleaning to keep from admitting all I wanted to do was suck and fuck. And I was miserable. A doormat. A dustmop.
Now the place looked like a dump, because I'd started doing what my body told me to do instead of being controlled by my hang-ups.
The change in my life was accountable to one thing only: I'd started to fuck because I wanted to fuck.
And I sucked and fucked a teenager because I wanted to suck and fuck him. No wonder I was deliriously happy for the first time.
I wanted to wrap my lips around his long smooth cock, tasting it sweetly in my mouth when I licked the dew off the tip. Then I wanted him to go down on me. I wanted his mouth at my cunt while I spread my long legs to the fullest. And, finally, with my legs still spread to the ultimate, I wanted his cock-head surging between my pussy lips. His prick filling my cunt. Further. And further inside me. Until he came!
Oh, God, I couldn't stand it. I looked down to my sopping crotch and saw that I was on the verge of making a spectacle of myself to the neighbors, half my hand clearly up my obviously wet pussy.
There was no doubt about it. I had to get Ron to mow the lawn today.
I ran to the phone and dialed his number. A voice I recognized as his mother's answered the phone.
"Is Ron there?" I said urgently. "I need to talk to him."
"Well, he's busy now," she said.
"It's important."
"Say, who is this, anyway?" his mother said suspiciously. "You high-school girls are getting bolder everyday, calling up like this. For your information my son is on a date today with Ginny Mims. They're going to play tennis."
"No, no," I said. "I'm not a high-school girl. I'm... I'm the lady that... Ron does my yard." As I finished my sentence, the impact of what I'd just heard abruptly hit me.
A date. With a girl his own age. That meant Ron saw other women besides me... except they were girls.
Or were they all young girls? Maybe he was "mowing lawns" at other houses. I'd have to drive around and see whose yard looked crummy.
"Oh, I see," his mother was saying as I drifted off into left field someplace. "I'll go get him. Ron's lawn-mowing business has grown by leaps and bounds this summer, and I know it's important to him. He'll be here in a second."
"Thank you," I said, trying to interpret the growth of my teenage lover's business.
"Say," his mother abruptly blurted into the phone, "you wouldn't happen to be Mrs. Fredericks, would you?"
"Yes... yes... I would," I said meekly, cringing at what might be coming next.
"Well, then, I just want to thank you," she said cheerily. "You know Ron told me that you were his first customer, and that he owes you a lot because working for you gave him a lot of ideas he used to get more yards. He's a regular businessman."
Ugh, all of a sudden I was sick of her. She sounded like George's mother describing him ten years ago when we were both just out of high school. It made me want to puke.
But not to fuck any less.
"Ron, Ron," I implored when he came to the phone. "I've just got to see you today." Panic was starting to set in, and as I spoke, I reached into my cut-offs again, seizing my sopping cunt like it was a security blanket.
"But I was just there a couple of days ago," he said calmly. "That should be enough."
"Ron," I humbled myself, trying to ignore his indifference, "my pussy is foaming. It wants you. It needs your cock."
"Yeah, sure, sure," he said coolly, trying to hide the nature of my end of the conversation from the others at his end of the line. "But didn't my mother tell you that I'm busy today, that I've got a date?"
"Then it's true," I blurted furiously, astonished at my jealousy. "You are with a girl. And what about those other lawns you mow? Your mother also told me that your business is growing by leaps and bounds."
"Hey, shhhhh," he whispered. "They can almost hear you."
"They'll hear a lot more than that," I seethed angrily, desperate at the prospect of losing my teenage fucking machine, "unless you come over right away."
"But I can't break my date," he whined.
"Tell her it's an emergency. Leave her with your mom," I suggested, my gushing words revealing my desperation. "It won't take long. Just a quickie."
"Yes?"
"I've got to feel your cock in my cunt right away or I won't make it through the day. Please come over and fuck me," I caved in and begged, cramming my stiff fingers up the crack of my pussy in secret emphasis.
"Oh, all right, all right," he said. "I'll see what I can do and be over as fast as I can. Just so long as it won't take too long."
"Don't worry, Ronnie," I said, my voice reeking of humiliation, "my cunt is so sloppy it'll go off in seconds. Just as soon as I feel your hot, throbbing cock inside it."
"You sure?"
"I've got three fingers up it right now," I confessed. "I'm warming it up for you. Please come over and stick your cock in it. Please fuck me."
After he hung up I threw off my clothes and ran, stark naked, for the bedroom. I threw myself on the bed and spread my legs in the classic fucking position, gazing in wonder at my open cunt reflecting redly in the vanity-table mirror and getting hornier and juicier by the second.
All the begging, all the pleading I had done, all the humiliation I had suffered over the phone meant nothing to me if I could get Ron's hot cock inside my pussy. Where previously I had been a slave to housework and boredom, now I was a slave to fucking, willing to go to any humbling extreme to get it. I realized that I was willing to degrade myself in front of a teenage boy if I could get his cock inside me.
I don't know how long I lay there naked before the mirror. My legs were spread so that my pussy seemed like an oozing target in the mirror, the bubbling line of my crack the bullseye which the teen's cock would soon pierce.
How could I keep track of time? Time, space, existence... everything was irrelevant in the face of my oozingly ready cunt, waiting wetly for a cock. Everything was incinerated in my blazing desire to fuck.
My mind was engorged as though it were a cunt by the image of Ron's pumping cock, and I lost track of everything and just waited. My legs spread. My pussy open. The pink lips parted just enough to reveal my red fucking canal. Drooling. Glistening. Screaming silently for a big, hard cock.
Chapter Six
The rapping on the screen door in the kitchen brought me out of it. Not because it was particularly loud, but because it was so unanticipated. Ron never knocked. He just walked right in.
But it was definitely him. I knew that when I heard him call, "Mrs. Fredericks, are you home?"
Why was he calling? Did he have someone with him? The date? Ginny?
No, it couldn't be. He wouldn't do that to me.
I refused to consider the possibility of a betrayal and heedlessly called, "Come on in." I spread my thighs even farther so the first thing he'd notice when he walked into the bedroom were the twin images of my open, drooling fuck-hungry cunt, one glistening in the mirror, and the other sopping hairily between my quivering thighs.
I could hear him walking through the house. But then somebody seemed to be with him, following him. As they got closer I could swear that I heard giggles.
When the giggles were coming from just beyond the bedroom door, I craned my head to get a look, blurting, "What's so funny?" before I saw them standing there together.
Ron's date, despite my instantaneous jealousy, was beautiful. She was everything a teenage girl is supposed to be, especially her sunny, innocent cheerleader's face, and her slender curves. Her tits were pointed and perky like mine had been in high school, surging with youth.
It was easy to see that she had all she needed to be elected homecoming queen, with a lot to spare. Easy because she was completely naked except for her pale-blue bikini panties, her girlish curves shimmering. Suddenly I felt an uncontrollable spasm in my pussy from an unexpectedly arousing source.
Ron was just in his underwear too, his pulsing hard-on pushing out the front of his tight-fitting jockey shorts at least six inches. He was holding hands with the girl, as both of them looked at my open cunt, Ron gazing at the mirror with which he'd become familiar over the past weeks, and his girlfriend looking directly at my pussy.
"I thought you were coming alone," I said, trying to act gruff, but curiously my heart was not in it. The tip-off was that when I said it I was looking at the girl and not Ron. She was undeniably scrumptious-looking.
"Well, I was coming alone," he said. "But when Ginny here kept asking why she couldn't tag along, I finally gave in and told her what was up. And the next thing you know she insisted on coming along. Mrs. Fredericks, this here's Ginny Mims."
My heart skipped a beat as they moved toward the bed.
I looked instinctively at the crotch of her blue panties for proof of her remark. It was true. The crotch of the flimsy fabric was dark blue, a clinging shadow showing halfway up toward the elastic. The outline of her pussy bulged in minute detail between her perfect thighs.
And then to make double sure that I got the point, she reached over and slid her hand under the elastic of her boyfriend's jockey shorts. In a second, his familiar long dick was out in the open as she expertly ran the foreskin slowly back and forth over the turgid knob at the end. I licked my lips uncontrollably as I noticed a milky glob of anticipatory semen drooling from the bottom of his vertical smile, that cock-grin I had deliciously savored so many times this summer.
"If you don't think I know what I'm doing, look at this," she said defiantly, dropping to her knees beside the bed. In an instant she had her mouth around his cock, turning her head and brushing back her honey-colored hair so I could see her lips pursing on his shaft.
Intellectually, I knew that I should be exploding with jealousy. However, the only explosion I felt was between my thighs, my cunt virtually erupting with lathering desire.
Suddenly I realized that if this was really bothering me like I'd been trying to convince myself it ought to, then why hadn't I ever made a move to close my legs? The fact of the matter was that I had made my pussy even more conspicuous since I'd noticed the two of them.
The fact of Ginny's sweet mouth around my teenage lover's prick didn't bother me at all, once I understood that Ginny's presence meant that there were more teenage goodies to go around. Suddenly I was determined that Ron's sweetie pie wasn't going to get away with sucking his cock in front of me without paying a delicious price.
I leaned down and began caressing her perfect body. Her naked skin was so smooth that it was elegant. Her breasts were mounds of marble, the nipples as hard as stones. Just touching her made my mouth water and my pussy clench like its walls had been knotted.
The more I touched her and ran my fingers over her cock-sucking, kneeling body, the closer I came to the point where I had to know what was inside those sopping wet bikini panties that were clinging to her crotch. From above, the slurping of Ron's cock fucking her mouth underscored the desperation of my insane desire to fuck and suck -- and my fixation on the divine Ginny's pussy.
I placed my hands on either side of her narrow waist, and carefully started rolling her sheer panties down her undulating hips. She knew what I was doing, because she helped me, making just the right moves so that I could unstick her panties from even the dampest part of her cunt and move them easily down her thighs. Then she raised one knee... then the other... and the panties were aver her ankles and off, flung wetly into a sticky heap on the bed, drenching the spread.
It was my first look at a totally naked teenage girl since the showers after gym class in high school -- years ago. Wow, I had completely forgotten the power of the female body to excite someone of either sex.
I'd been turned-on plenty by the curves and tits and pussies and asses and legs and thighs of my classmates during school. But I'd always repressed it the way I'd done with everything exciting in my life until this summer. Now, ten years later, I was getting another chance. A reprieve. A totally unexpected confrontation with a nubile, female body, with no crippling inhibitions to keep me from doing what I'd wanted to do all those years ago... Suck those tits... Eat that pussy... Rub my cunt in her face... Feel her lick my pussy.
With her legs spread, the lower half of my body slid like it was made to fit between her thighs, our cunts meeting in a slurpy embrace that sent thrills coursing to every part of me. Our pussies were heaving against each other. Cunt lips caressed their counterparts until I was so aroused I was grinding away exactly as if I were fucking her with a cock. The ceaseless impact of our stiff clits drove us wild, our cunts spanning the generation gap as they joined in a perfect union.
My hands found their way to her tits. Their exquisiteness thrilled my fingertips. As I beaded her nipples until they were as hard as a cock. Aching for a taste, I slid my head down her swan's neck and onto her chest, seizing her left breast with my mouth, swallowing the erect nipple and batting it mercilessly with his tongue.
As I sucked her tits, I glanced over at Ron wondering if he was jealous. If he was, he wasn't showing it by the way he was playing with his prick. It was long and hard out in front of him while he slowly stroked it, drooling at the sight before him on the bed.
I wanted to tease him... make him wonder whether he'd outsmarted himself bringing his hot-cunted girlfriend over here. And there was only one way to do that -- bearing down on Miss Ginny until our pussies both creamed all over the bed and Ron was wild from being left out.
I threw myself onto her with redoubled vigor. Our cunts pressed together so solidly that there was no telling where one pussy ended and the other one began, the thatches of our pubic bushes mingling as one. Our pelvic bones ground into one another like cars in a head-on collision, the thrills spasming through both of our bodies as though we were Siamese twins joined at the cunt.
Each of our tongues probed the other's throat like cocks inside of cunts, our mouths engorged by throbbing, thumping tubes of erect flesh. She was all muscle and sinew, but all girl beneath me, writhing in ecstasy as we each gave the other as good as we got, loving every minute of it.
The more our action heated up, the less Ron could stay in his chair. His cock grew bigger and bigger in his stroking fist until it was even longer than I had ever seen it. It seemed incongruous glancing over and seeing him there with his smooth body, and sticking right out of the center of it was the biggest, throbbingest, stiffest cock I'd ever seen.
Looking at it impatiently straining his nervous fist made me remember how important Ron's cock had become this summer in the scheme of my life. There was no need to throw over the teenage cock of my dreams just because I'd stumbled onto the teenage pussy of my dreams.
I suddenly wanted them both, and looked up from Ginny's breasts to give him an invitation with my eyes. He'd seen my bedroom eyes enough over the summer to know that I wanted him now, and virtually leapt from his chair onto the bed, battering both of us with his excited, flailing dick. I smiled in satisfaction, knowing that I had finally brought him to the breaking point.
"Couldn't mind your own business, huh, lover boy?" Ginny chuckled, as though she'd known all along it was just a matter of time before he joined us.
I rolled over on my back, inviting both of them to simultaneously ravage me, anxious to have a teenager at each end of me. My mouth was wide open, beckoning for his cock to shoot inside of it. And my legs were spread to the ultimate, my cunt pleading for Ginny to eat it.
As quickly as I had conceived the arrangement, we were in the correct positions, Ginny and Ron acting like they could read my mind. Her face disappeared between my thighs, only her smooth, bobbing forehead showing above the curly fringe of my pubic bush. I got a last look at her going down on me just before Ron's loins swooped aver me and the torpedo of his cock blasted toward the gaping target of my waiting mouth.
I felt like a fish speared at both ends as my boy-girl love team worked on my mouth and cunt. Ginny's tongue was a marvel worthy of a harem girl, plunging to the hilt within my constricting box. And Ron's prick matched it every step of the way, filling my mouth with more thickness than I could remember him ever possessing prior to this incredible afternoon.
While Ron's cock ground deeper and deeper down my throat, I increasingly became aware of something unusual about it beyond its exaggerated length and girth. Whatever it was, it was making my senses reel.
It was a taste. A taste and scent that were different and familiar at the same time. Something I was used to on my young man's prick, and something alien.
"Mmmmmmm," I groaned, finally catching on, letting my senses fully experience the exotic flavor. Now I knew why Ginny's cunt had been so incredibly rich with goo. "I can taste your fuck -- nice salty come and sweet pussy juice. You two must have had a real fine fuck while Ron's mother was fixing lunch."
Ginny nodded dreamily, not trying to hide a thing.
"Then let's see you do it again," I said, releasing his prick. I was suddenly anxious to see both of them in action, hopelessly turned-on by the prospect of their perfect teenage bodies locked in sexual harmony.
They were glad to oblige as I moved over to the side of the bed to watch, spreading my legs and rubbing my pussy like some perverted female Peeping Tom.
She scrambled to her hands and knees, grinning back at him over her slender shoulder. Her trim buttocks jutted out to show him how much she wanted it, her cunt sucking wetly between her thighs.
Ron was ready. Quickly he knelt between her waiting thighs. Spreading her cunt lips with one hand, he carefully positioned the love-slick knob of his dick against the mouth of her pussy, getting ready to penetrate.
"Now! Shove it in hard! Sock it to me!" Ginny begged, the first sign of weakness I'd seen her show.
Ron did as she asked. Not waiting for her pussy to relax for the entry of his attacking prick, he plunged forward, cramming his battering-ram into her quivering cunt with brutal force.
"Oooooooh," she shuddered, as Ron's searing lance tore into her pussy from the rear. The ripping thrust sent her sweaty, naked body falling forward with a lurch. Her arms collapsed, and she hung impaled on the long dick that was piercing her belly.
I was so excited watching them fuck that just having three of my fingers crammed up my pussy to the final row of knuckles wasn't enough. Continuing the rhythmic fury of my fingerfucking, I reached out with my other hand to caress the union of their genitals, thrilling at the gooey lock of his long prick buried to the balls in her foaming cunt.
Ginny was panting and writhing on her hands and knees as though Ron was splitting her in two with the penetration of his rear entry. My searching finger, moving up the dewy furrow of her ass, could feel the rosebud of her anus pulsing from the distension in the core of her body. Her tender loins were shimmying, seeming on the verge of being fucked apart.
"Ooooooh... oooooh... oooooh," she grunted and broke out in a fresh sweat.
Maybe there was something in my smoothing touch against the outer lips of her cock-engorged pussy that told her I was concerned. From the other end of the bed she assured me, "I always go to pieces every time Ron shoves that big cock of his up my pussy. It's bigger than anyone's at school... even the players on the football team."
Suddenly I was so aroused by what I was watching that I ached to become a part of it. I eased myself down toward the syrupy point of their union, running my tongue over the shaft of his stiff prick between her slick pussy lips. Lovingly, I lapped away at the sloppy melding of cock and pussy.
Then I slid my tongue up the gully of her ass to that anus I had so tenderly felt with my fingers. It tasted sweet-and-sour, a reminder of what had been going on between this fifteen-year-old's legs so far today.
I poked the tip of my tongue into her asshole, and then pulled out, sliding down again to the union of cock and cunt. Going further, my tongue reached around the tube of his cock and found the top of her pussy. Her clit was an easy target, erectly waiting for any and all stimulation.
"Quick, Mrs. Fredericks," Ginny called from in front. "Let's complete the daisy chain before one of us comes all over the place and ruins the whole thing."
"Like this?" Keeping my mouth to their locked genitalia, I arched my naked body and moved it around on the bed, winding up on my hands and knees with my ass pointing in the direction of Ginny's lowered face.
Inch by inch I angled my ass closer to her, as she craned her neck towards me. The three of us were like characters made of Jello, our movements reduced to quivering slow motion by the thickly pliant mattress and the vibrating ripples from Ron's oomphing strokes up his girlfriend's tight pussy. Slowly... slowly, we moved together, handling the situation like our bodies were glass and might shatter if we didn't do everything just right.
At last I could feel her hot tongue lapping perkily away along the inside of the furrow of my ass, and I knew we were home free. Within seconds her tongue had traced a route over the puckering ridges of my asshole and down the groove into the foaming maw of my cunt, tickling my clit at the end of the sweet ride.
My cunt now being thoroughly serviced, I returned my attention to the fabulous movement of Ron's cock inside Ginny's tight cunt. My tongue wrapped around the short but thick part of his cock that wasn't immersed in her pussy like a boa constrictor, wetly squeezing his rod. The vibrations rattling my teeth told me that their fucking motion was fantastic.
Then, without warning, Ron's cock abruptly slid out of Ginny's cunt, searing against my tongue and lips as it unexpectedly withdrew.
Before I could ask what was going on, a panting conversation between Ron and Ginny answered my question. "You sure you want it in your ass?" he asked hungrily.
"I wondered what you were waiting for," she said, wriggling her cute butt.
He instantly moved to comply. Naturally I helped, holding his long, stiff cock for him and guiding it toward her succulent anus. When the purplish tip of his prick was pressing insistently against her bunghole. I leaned down and planted a sloppy kiss on her anus, lapping the ridges with thick spit for lubrication.
Now I grabbed the shaft of Ron's prick with both hands. I gave his meat a yank, and the rest of his slim body followed. His loins surged toward the tiny target of her asshole as though he intended to stuff his body cock-first into the tiny opening with one massive shove.
In a single thrust he was inside her rosy, tight ass at least six inches, a fact which could be confirmed by Ginny's screaming. "Oh God," she cried, "this time you've killed me. I love it!"
I seized the exposed area of his prick with my mouth, gradually skidding toward his balls as he stiffly worked the extra inches into Ginny's ass. Finally he was inside her to the hilt, and I was cupping his salty balls with my fingers and tongue, stuffing them into my mouth like a glutton. When both nuts were in my mouth I tightened my lips and tugged at his scrotum, agitating the sperm already churning inside.
"Now Ron!" Ginny's voice surprised me with its urgency. "Switch off!"
His balls tore from my mouth as his dick pulled abruptly out of Ginny's asshole, and then socked solidly back inside her pussy.
"Switch off!" she called again, and then he was out of her pussy, cuming again for her ass.
Ooooomph! Up inside her ass again and then out again.
Sliding wetly within her saturated cunt, his hairy balls pressed against the top of her cunt because of the rear entry, scratching her clit.
Then, slurrrrp, out of her pussy and back to the crimson blotch of her asshole.
In there... and then out with a squish.
Back to the cunt. Stuffing to the hilt... Then her cunt is abruptly empty once more as her ass is filled with hot, throbbing cock.
His cock was a blur, engorging one fucking canal, and then the other. Now in her anus and then in her cunt... then back to her asshole each orifice a foaming wound.
Instead of hurting her slim, developing nymphet's body, the severity of Ron's attack on her two love-holes drove Ginny wilder and wilder, the "switch-off" between her ass and pussy just making her twice as aroused. Her mouth sucked at my cunt like it was trying to drain me dry, bucket after bucket of thick, rich juice flowing from my pussy, as she tried to turn me on along with her.
Ginny's tongue was like a hot lance against the tender walls of my pussy, miraculously touching all the right places. With her expert licking I started to really come after having experienced dozens of miniature orgasms. With Ginny's insistent mouth on my pussy, and her tongue shooting inside, the interior of my cunt twisted like a knot. Then it exploded, an ocean of cream bathing her sucking face.
Ron's cock was still in her ass, but now it was withdrawing. He swung out of her anus, circling his prick as he prepared to guide it into her hotly awaiting cunt. At the top of the loop, I seized his arcing prick, closing my hands in tight fists around it so the monster couldn't get away. I was determined that nothing was going to get in the way of me sampling its final treasure.
I violently squeezed his dick, pumping at it to draw the come from his balls. His prick-head swelled grotesquely from the pressure, throbbing purplishly, the vertical smile at the tip transformed into a leering jagged gash drooling a viscous glob of seeping semen.
But then, before I could wrap my lips around the head of his cock, he abruptly came. Between my clutching fingers I could feel the first load of his sperm barreling up the shaft of his prick like a runaway locomotive.
The spurting come splashed lubriciously all over the hairy, pink target between Ginny's parted ass and thighs, sticky gobs of white semen clinging to the ridges of her anus and dripping from the folds of her pussy. Her two joy-holes were covered with the milk of thick male slime, her asshole creating miniature bubbling love-farts when escaping air rippled through the heavy cream.
I knew the capacity of Ron's cock to come and keep on coming, so I didn't worry about missing anything. With the come still spurting in a molten jet, I threw my open mouth down around his prick. Not taking it all the way, I left enough space for his cock to fill my mouth with come again and again, delightedly swallowing each new blast of delicious jizz.
Between my legs, my pussy gushed uncontrollably while my body orgasmically convulsed. My climax drenched Ginny's face, spewing out the sticky discharge of female orgasm with utterly no stops.
The daisy chain quivered and tensed, jumped and jolted. We wallowed together in the softness of the mattress, the gooey lubrication of spurting semen, and the flowing pussy juice.
Our sweaty, naked bodies slid against each other like we were coated with axle grease, each new movement by one of us immediately bringing an unprecedented thrill to the genitally connected others.
And then, finally, Ginny's ass and pussy were glistening pink, the last slick of Ron's come licked clean. I turned toward Ginny, finding her sticky face and pressing my lips to her mouth.
I had purposely kept one last load of male come in my mouth, puffing my cheeks to accommodate all of it. Now, as our lips pressed together, it spilled into Ginny's mouth, my gift to her as we shared a long, lingering, spermy soul-kiss.
Finally we were all finished coming, and collapsed into a tired, wet heap of naked flesh on my hopelessly stained bedspread. Our arms and legs were as limp as dishrags, and Ginny's and my love-holes were like sliced wounds, glistening in their throbbing openness. We had gone so far, the coming had been so intense, that even Ron's prodigious cock had started to wilt, lazily drooling a last few drops of thick residual sperm.
I wrapped my hand around his semi-erect staff, smiling to myself with the knowledge that it would never grow completely limp as long as there was even a hint of sex in the air. That's the way it was with young men, I thought warmly, as I lovingly gripped my son's cock.
Ginny's nubile pussy was only inches from my face, framed by the golden cheeks of her adorable ass. I nuzzled in between her buns, and rested my lips against her pussy, loving its pungent scent of exhaustion mixed with its perpetual adolescent freshness.
God, how I loved my children in their infinite ability to fuck and suck and still retain their youthful freshness. Being with them, and doing it with them, peeled the years off me -- every one of those ten years of mated drudgery and made me feel as young and carefree as they were.
It's funny, but as I lay there with my hand around Ron's cock, and my mouth nestling against Ginny's pussy, I didn't feel dirty or old at all. I felt young... and innocent.
Chapter Seven
It turned out, of course, that Ron's growing gardening business was really a racket by the sharpie to fuck half the housewives in the suburb, and get paid for it besides. By the number of crummy lawns I started noticing on every block, I knew the teen was probably getting rich.
Surprisingly enough, I was able to accept sharing Ron with others. Although, come to think of it, maybe it wasn't so surprising after that incredible afternoon with him and his girlfriend, Ginny Mims. In any case, I started to regard Ron's cock like it was a natural resource. It was like Old Faithful, the legendary geyser at Yellowstone Park, destined to go off no matter what.
After I'd given Ron a taste for fucking at the beginning of the summer, it was a cinch that his hyperactive teenage libido was going to make him want more and more. There was no one person who could give him enough. And rather than have him jacking off to relieve the constant pressure on his balls, it seemed reasonable to let other women in my fix share the milk of his ever-stiff prick in their cunts. It if helped them ease their frustrations at being human dustmops, like I'd been before I met Ron... well, why not?
The only problem was that Ron had become so busy with his stud service that the frequency of his visits started to drop off. I could hardly complain after I'd agreed the unselfish thing to do was share him with the neighbors, but, meanwhile, I was finding myself getting hornier and hornier without his cock inside me whenever I wanted it.
And the hornier I got, the more I wanted it. Five or six times a day I found myself lusting for a cock, my cunt absolutely aching to have a cock inside it. I took to not wearing any panties when I was around the house so I could have easy access to my pussy, playing with it and achieving some kind of temporarily relieving orgasm so I could function for a while without climbing the walls.
Even when Ron was with me I couldn't get enough. My capacity to fuck continuously actually started to outstrip the capacity of his cock and balls, as I begged for more and more until he was drained dry. When he left, my yearning started all over again, almost as though I hadn't fucked at all. My cunt was insatiable, a monster between my legs always demanding its way.
I knew I had to find something to go along with my regular fucks from Ron or I'd go nuts. The house was a mess because I just sat around and thought about fucking and sucking. My mind was constantly filled with wet images of pricks and pussies and assholes and tits, all of them in the most turgid arousal and the hottest action.
One afternoon I grew so desperate that I even contemplated seducing George when he stumbled through the door at 6:00. I tried to make myself believe that his cock was enough to satisfy me in my horny condition, and maybe it would have worked if I could have held myself in and waited for him.
But there was no way I could wait. It was the middle of the afternoon. It would be over three hours before George and his dinky equipment got home. Meanwhile, my pussy was absolutely burning up. If I didn't get it on somehow, soon, I felt like I would have a heart attack.
Masturbating wasn't enough for me now. Playing with myself just cooled things down for a few minutes. If I tried to keep myself in line by masturbating until George finally got home, my cunt would be a useless bloody mess, rubbed raw by the time he finally walked through the door. I'd wind up in the emergency room instead of in bed.
I got up and paced restlessly around the room, my nerves frazzled, puffing on cigarette after cigarette. It didn't take long for it to occur to me that I was right back in the same shape I'd been in when I was bored out of my mind from being a typical housewife, my frustration making me a near wreck.
Determined that I wasn't going back to being a human dustmop, I vowed to think of some way to satisfy the desires that were eating away inside me. Another human being was going to fuck and suck me and make me come today, that was all there was to it. I'd made up my mind.
I'd wasted ten years of my adult life listening to common sense. Then this summer I'd finally achieved happiness by following my impulses instead, balling with teenagers simply because I wanted to. There was no way I was going to go back to sweeping my normal sexual instincts under the carpet.
Tired of the overly familiar scenery in the living room, I fled out of doors like I was busting out of jail. The first thing that greeted my eyes was the yard, so overgrown by now that it looked like we were growing wheat to supplement our income. God, I thought, I was going to have to do something about that lawn.
If I didn't get someone to legitimately cut the lawn, it was only a matter of time before the neighbors started to complain. If only I could find someone I didn't want to fuck to do it for me. Maybe George could cut it.
They had a citizen's committee in this suburb. When people started doing things that supposedly lowered property values -- leaving the garage open, overflowing garbage cans, selling property to blacks -- the committee made a personal visit to get them to see the light. In other words, they threatened to run them out of the suburb if they didn't play ball and correct whatever area in which the committee deemed they were derelict.
The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't understand why our giant rat's nest of a yard hadn't come up before the committee yet. Then I looked across the street to see what the homes over there were like. Immediately I understood why there had been no complaints. At least two of the yards in the block across the street were almost as bad as ours.
Ron!
The Don Juan had swept through the neighborhood so fast that he had single handedly changed the landscaping of an entire suburb. Nobody cared about their own yard, or how anybody else's looked, just so long as they were getting their supply of teenage jizz up their frustrated pussies.
And to think... I'd really started it all.
Just thinking about it made my cunt foam. I pressed my bare thighs together, trying to staunch the flow, my body trembling.
To temporarily clear my sex-engorged mind, I looked out across the street again, especially at the overgrown yard two houses down. God, that Ron was bold, I thought, going in and out of a house that close to mine.
I tried to be irked at him, but all it did was arouse me even more. You had to hand it to someone who was that enterprising. Especially someone with such a gorgeous dick.
I tried to think who lived at the house whose yard I was surveying. Goss... Foss... Foss something. That's all I could recall.
I closed my eyes, pushing my fingertips to my temples in order to elicit a recollection -- some memory of the people who I invited in the house at which I was looking.
It became important to me. What was the point of living in a shell? That's what had driven me to the brink of a nervous breakdown -- the chronic frustration and boredom of not having contact with people outside of my husband and children.
It became vital for me to remember something about the people who lived in that house to prove I hadn't been permanently dehumanized by ten years as an uptight, sex-starved housewife.
Foss... Foss... their name was coming to me. Fossgraves, that was it. Earl and Miranda Fossgraves. I'd been introduced to them once at a PTA meeting when they'd first moved into the neighborhood. He was in plastics or something. How could I have forgotten them? They were such an unlikely couple.
He was about five feet tall and five feet wide, totally bald. A human bowling ball. But pink... like he was made out of rubber. He was of indeterminate age, but at least ten years older than his wife, who seemed a taut thirty.
She was tall and statuesque, with a perfect body -- a high-breasted monument to the perfectability of the human form. Silky brown hair cascading over her shoulders and down her gracefully sloping back. Long lissome legs. Now I remembered her perfectly... Miranda Fossgraves. I recalled her perpetual smile now.
Now how could I have forgotten a couple like that, I thought. There could only be one explanation: I'd been turned-on by her and, in my old mousy way, had immediately buried my dangerous attraction in my unconscious.
She'd been a friendly woman. She'd introduced herself as Miranda and asked me to come over and have coffee some time.
Well, that was three or four months ago, but better late than never. I'd take her up on her hospitality.
Within a matter of minutes I was going up her walk, chuckling at the tell-tale proliferation of weeds. I wondered what would happen if Ron should happen to accidentally go to work for some old confirmed virgin whose cunt had grown over, someone who actually insisted he mow her lawn for ten bucks. The poor guy would probably wind up as a teenage heart-attack victim from the shock.
When I rapped on the door, and nobody answered, at first I thought perhaps nobody was home. But then I heard someone stumbling and then hissing in a female voice, "Goddamn it!"
When the door finally opened, I didn't immediately recognize Miranda. I was too busy looking at a part of her I'd never seen.
All she was wearing was the sheerest nightie I'd ever seen. The top did nothing to conceal her succulent tits, their purple nipples straining lushly through the transparent fabric. The hem came about halfway down her crotch, the curly triangle of her pubic bush as apparent as if she'd been completely nude. Below there was nothing, her bare cunt flexing between her solid, tanned thighs.
"Can I help you?" she said. "I have all the Avon products I really need, and I've already tried Jehovah's Witness and didn't like it. I'm into transcendental meditation flow."
I knew I was embarrassing myself but I couldn't take my bulging eyes off the gorgeous sight of her bare snatch. It actually seemed to glisten, her shiny pussy lips drooping pinkly at the bottom of her pubic V.
When my eyes dropped to her heavenly thighs I knew the glistening wasn't just my imagination. Her thighs were glazed with wetness all the way to the front. I gulped as I realized her pussy was sopping wet and that I had interrupted her doing something very personal.
"Ron?" I involuntarily blurted, instantaneously blushing.
For the first time I looked at her face, silently begging her not to think me a fool. Her beautiful features were distorted by uncertainty, until that big smile I'd remembered suddenly appeared and she said, "Oh, you mean the guy that mows lawns. Is that why you're here? What about Ron?"
I was so flustered that I reverted to my mousy ways, trying to present myself as a respectable housewife. "Actually," I said, "I've been wondering if you think he's worth the money."
"I beg your pardon."
"See," I improvised, trying to save face, "I live across the street at 942 Fredericks. I've seen the young man a few times over at your place, and just assumed he does gardening for you, too. I thought we might compare notes to see if we're getting our money's worth."
"Well, my, my," she laughed gorgeously, her deep-red lips pulling over her spectacularly white teeth, "this is certainly a new kind of consumer survey: the neighborhood gangs up against a teen who's trying to save enough money to go to college."
"Is that what he told you?"
"Sure."
"He told me it was to buy a Honda."
"Well, nobody's denying that the guy is clever," she said. "I know you asked first, but tell me, do you think you're getting your money's worth, Mrs. Fredericks."
"Alice," I said. "Just call me Alice."
"How about it, Alice? Is Ron giving you your money's worth?" she said, and I couldn't help but look at her spectacular breasts and her sodden pussy.
"Yes... uh... yes, I guess so," I stammered.
"I thought so," she said brightly. "From the looks of your yard, he's doing as good a job over there as he is over here. Not to mention at Mrs. Tittleson's down the street."
"Is he here today?" I forced myself to ask, knowing that I was on the brink of revealing my secret life.
"No, as a matter of face, he's not," she answered calmly. "I think he's with that girlfriend of his. That cheerleader. Ginny something."
"Mmmm," I said.
"Oh," she squealed, "you know her too. Isn't she divine?"
Without thinking, I nodded my head.
Obviously there were no secrets between us any longer.
"To tell you the truth," she said, "earlier today I was looking over at your house and was wondering if Ron was over there. Then I called his house and his mother told me he was with Ginny."
"I was doing the same thing," I laughed with surprising ease, astonished at how my tenseness vanished with her admission.
"I see you didn't get quite as frustrated as I did," she said, spreading her hands out in front of her to emphasize her all-but-naked body.
"I didn't call his mom, if that's what you mean," I teased, looking squarely at her mouthwatering body.
"Come to think of it," she said, "there's no reason we have to let this throw us. Especially now that we know we both have the same gardener. Why don't you come on in and get comfortable?"
Once inside her expensively furnished living room we took seats across from one another, each of us eyeing the other. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, as she flung her long bare legs out on the coffee table, revealing a perfect chute to her glistening pussy. I couldn't take my eyes off her, and from the way she was looking at me, she had the same problem.
"It's hot today, isn't it?" she said.
"Yes," I agreed, practically panting my answer from the thrill of gazing at her throbbing breasts and open, trickling pussy.
"I can see the sweat on your forehead," she said sympathetically. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable -- that's why I invited you in."
"But... I... I..." I stuttered nervously, sweat creating dark circles under the arms of my thin blouse.
"Don't worry," she said soothingly. "Nobody's going to barge in on us."
"What about your husband?" I asked anxiously.
"The money machine?" she laughed derisively. "Forget about him. He's been in Japan for ten days trying to negotiate the terms for a shipment of dildoes. The Japanese make the best ones."
I was shocked. "I thought he was in the plastics business."
"He is," she said. "What do you think they make those things out of these days? Vinyl. It feels just like the real thing against your skin, believe me. Want to see one? We've always got tons of them around. Earl says he's paid for our house and furniture on the profits from importing those mothers just since we moved here three-and-a-half months ago."
I was astonished. And under my skirt, my cunt was absolutely foaming.
"Well," she said cheerfully, "are you game? Wanna see one? I've got one a foot long in the closet. It'll just take me a minute to get it."
I dumbly nodded my head, not knowing what else to do.
"Okay, I'll go get it. Just one condition, though," she said, as she got up, putting her long graceful legs under her and walking toward my chair. "I'm going to feel real bad if you don't accept my hospitality and make yourself real comfy while you're in my home. As comfy as I am. You'll hurt my feelings if you don't."
"I... I... I..." I hopelessly stammered.
"Don't be shy," she said. "I've already noticed that you don't have a stitch on under that short skirt, so it won't be a bit of trouble." Before I could react, she reached down, pulling my skirt over my lap and fully exposing my bubbling pussy.
I tried to close my thighs so she couldn't see the wet pinkness of my gaping aroused crack, but some inner force seemed to hold me back. My legs quivered, but they didn't move, my thighs implacably remaining six inches apart no matter how hard I concentrated.
"Look at that," she said, leaning down and peering into the sticky well of my thighs, "your pussy is staining my chair. You ought to be careful about whose house you go over to without wearing any panties with a juicy twat like you've got."
"I... I'm sorry," I blushed. "I didn't know... didn't realize."
"Don't give it a second thought," she said cheerfully. "The upholstery is Scotch-guarded, it'll wipe up in a second. Let me just stick my hand down here and..."
Her hand didn't even make a pretense of wiping the stain, busy fingers instantly encircling themselves in the tendrils of my pubic bush as she began nabbing my cunt. Automatically I writhed under her touch, my thrusting hips arching my soggy pussy into the air. Her fingers slid into me, filling my pussy in a pumping motion that drove me wild.
As her thumb pressed against my clit, Miranda leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Now are you ready for the dildo... or do you want to lick my cunt first?"
Her boldness sent shivers down my spine, the rapid succession of events having reduced me to numbed pliancy. I was a prisoner to the feeling between my legs -- a feeling which would only stop when another human being made me come.
As Miranda stroked my pussy, waiting for me to make up my mind between the dildo and her succulent cunt, it occurred to me that either a man or woman would do when I was this horny. In fact, I licked my lips thinking of the potential pleasure of making it with another woman, knowing that if we got it on she would experience the same sensations and emotions as I when we came together.
"Your cunt," I gasped feverishly. "I want your cunt."
"The couch... the couch..." she crooned, moving backward and beckoning with her hands for me to follow. I followed like I was magnetized, unable to resist the glistening sheen of her trickling crotch and the fantastic tits poking in full detail through the transparent nightie.
Miranda kept moving backward until she bumped into the couch. Purposely tripping against it, she fell over so that she landed flat on her pretty ass in the separation between the two cushions. The impact of the fall splayed her long legs, both of them spread all the way to opposite ends of the sofa. Pinioned because of the drop between the cushions, her cunt stood out like a succulent piece of ripe fruit, a lush tropical melon some native had just whacked in half with a machete. I absolutely drooled... at both ends.
I tore off my blouse, exposing my heaving breasts, lusting to be naked with Miranda. Flying at her with kisses, I bathed her beautiful bare body with my lips and tongue. The kisses went lower and lower, trailing between her lustrous breasts and down across her taut belly. For a moment I paused at her navel, filling it with my hot, throbbing tongue.
Then lower still.
My hot breath steamed against the damp curls of her arousal-drenched bush. My tongue twisted in a relentless course through the silky pubic hair. Downward.
When my tongue found the pink pearl of her clit in the pungent furrow between her thighs, Miranda no longer had any alternative but to cry out in joy.
Crouching before Miranda's teeming crotch, I lifted her thighs to my shoulders. She helped me by raising her astonishingly flared hips, spreading her legs widely in the exciting process.
With my passionately wet target spread like an erotic fold-out in some incredibly lewd magazine, I threw my face into my indescribably pleasant task. My quick kisses traced the bulging lips of Miranda's pussy furrow, sacking the moisture that had irrigated her crotch like a flood. Eagerly my tongue licked up and down her slit, spreading the red pussy lips on the outside to reveal the pink lips within. Her cunt opened like an artichoke to me, more and more succulent as I got closer to the core.
As my tormenting tongue swirled the secret bud that was her clit, Miranda gasped chokingly, shuddering from the pleasure of my mouth on her pussy. The couch was an expensive one made out of solid oak, but right now Miranda's joyful writhing under my sucking had it shaking and hopping off the floor.
I pressed my face hard against Miranda's fantastically sweet pussy. Now my kisses centered on her throbbing clit. I suctioned the turgid joy-button between my lips, fluttering it with the erect tip of my tongue. All the while, the pungent scent of feminine sensuality filled my nostrils, the muskiest turn-on I'd ever smelled.
Leaving her clit for a moment, I began to lap my tongue up and down the sucking gash of Miranda's pussy. Her cunt was soon brimming with a combination of my spit and her love-juice, a concoction which I desperately tried to lick up. I pressed my lips to Miranda's cunt-mouth and licked fervidly.
The unceasing discharge from Miranda's berserk pussy filled my mouth with a taste so sweet it's a wonder I didn't contract diabetes. The lips of my mouth reaching out to seal the lips of her pussy, my tongue surged into her fucking canal, jabbing in and out like a tiny, twisting prick.
Miranda continued to moan in ecstasy, wriggling her ass in a shimmying frenzy on the couch. Her thighs quivered crazily against my buried face, seizing me like I was being attacked by a pair of berserk vibrators. The more she shook, the more her pussy juice spewed into my mouth, the sweetness gagging me with its frothy volume.
Then, with a shudder of excruciating delight, Miranda started to explosively come. Her orgasmic reflexes jolted and bucked her all the way across the couch, involuntarily pulling her cunt from my mouth, and then depositing her in a leg-spread heap on the floor. Following her, I dove for the hairy, drooling target between the perimeter of her golden thighs.
Immediately imprisoned in the maw of her hot, velvet pussy, I slid my tongue into Miranda's cunt, orally fucking her with a few last plunging strokes as she got her rocks off in my mouth. A fresh torrent of love-juice gushed out of Miranda's depths, as I gave her a long, sucking kiss. The stickiness cascaded through my lips and washed down my throat. I swallowed with delight, working my lips and tongue carefully to draw out the last morsel of feminine pleasure.
At last, Miranda fell back, temporarily exhausted from coming.
I rose from my kneeling position and smiled at my dazed neighbor. My lips, chin and cheeks were damp and glossy with the outpouring of her cunt. I lingered over her, my throbbing pussy oozing between my legs as they straddled her hips.
Slowly I bent my knees, carefully squatting and moving my body forward. My cunt slowly moved on a downward angle toward Miranda's panting mouth, my open slit so hot that my pussy juice seemed more like molten lava spewing out of a volcano. Oh, God, how I wanted my cunt on her mouth, her tongue lapping me toward orgasm until my pussy exploded as I had made hers do. I prayed she wasn't too tired.
Just before I bridged the last few inches between my pussy and her face, Miranda spoke, convincing me that I was not going to be disappointed within the next few minutes. "Sometimes a woman understands how to give another woman pleasure better than a man... ever can," she said, the breath from her words wafting hotly between my quivering thighs.
I grinned happily. "Are you ready to make me a believer, Miranda? My pussy is about ready to explode. Only your tongue can put out the fire."
"Okay," she called up, her voice throbbing with restored vigor. "Sit on my face."
Instantly accepting her invitation, I squatted all the way down, my cunt plunging toward her awaiting mouth as I straddled her supine body. My brimming snatch swayed a fraction of an inch above her face, briefly teasing her, before it dropped all the way. At last her face was smothered with my wet pussy.
I could feel the lips of my pussy meeting Miranda's mouth, the experience sensational. I cried out and knotted my hands into tight fists, an instinctive reaction as Miranda's long tongue started to probe the depths of my wide-open cunt.
Miranda's eyes smiled up at my enraptured face mischievously. If her lips smiled, they were hidden by the canopy of my sucking pussy. I moaned and pressed my snatch down against Miranda's desperately suctioning mouth.
Whimpering and writhing, I practically flattened the back of Miranda's head against the carpet as I ground my crotch lustily against her face. Twisting like a dancer, I rubbed my pussy back and forth across her mouth, feeling her teeth rub gently across my labia and clit.
While I shivered uncontrollably, Miranda duplicated the oral thrills I had moments ago sent coursing up her cunt. The excitement was unbearable as Miranda's lips and teeth nipped at my clit. Her tongue lapped my slit and then stabbed into my cunt-mouth, alternately licking and orally fucking me.
Hopelessly inflamed by the rampage of Miranda's mouth, an orgasm was soon on me, the climax I had craved and prayed for. Waves of ecstasy tore through me. I sobbed and clamped my loins tightly over Miranda's face. Joy-juice poured from my cunt and into my neighbor's waiting mouth. I could hear her gurgle as my pussy juice slid down her throat.
My coming abating for now, I lifted my temporarily satisfied cunt from Miranda's beaming face. She looked incredible with her face coated with the syrup of my coming, almost like she was melting. When I looked at her sloppy, blissful expression, my pussy sang with satisfaction.
"Kiss me," she beckoned. "Lick your own juice off my face."
I fell on top or her. Our bodies intertwining on the floor. When our lips met, the pungent thrill of my own cream made me lurch in ecstasy, my own sweetness tilling my senses. A pool of pussy juice that she had stored in her mouth slid down my throat as our lips met and tongues darted, my sweetness mingling in the pit of my stomach with Miranda's.
We were laying side by side with our tits pressed together and our legs interlocked so our pussies rubbed. When the kiss was over I was so ecstatic with joy that I couldn't help but ask, "How was it for you?"
"The same as it was for you," she sighed. "Wet... and wonderful. Do you still wonder if that twerp Ron is here?"
I laughed and shook my head no. "I wonder what Ron would think if he could see his two best customers now."
"I wonder what our husbands would think," she giggled, digging her thigh into my pussy.
"Please don't remind me," I giggled, running my lips along her cheek and fondling her breasts.
"Not one of them would probably believe it," she said.
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"You know men even when they're still just boys, like Ron. They all think that no woman can do without them. If a couple of women decide to take matters into their own hands or should I say pussies? They immediately conclude we're dykes."
"Well, there's certainly nothing queer about a couple of grown women making love to give pleasure to each other. Especially while everyone with a dick between their legs is ignoring them," I said seriously.
I was tired of being held like a puppet on a string by men. My adventure with Miranda had spontaneously expanded my horizons to an infinite degree. I would never stay horny again, as long as she was living across the street.
Wanting to show her how much I dug her, my mind recalled the offer of the foot-long dildo she had stored in her closet. "Get it," I urged. "Get that thing you were talking about earlier."
"The dildo?" she said, accurately reading my lustful thoughts. "Do you think you can take it?" she asked. "What's the biggest prick your pussy has ever handled? Your husband's? Ron's?"
"No," I confessed with some hesitation. "A door-to-door brush salesman at the beginning of the summer."
"Oh yeah," she sighed in obvious recognition.
"You?" I blurted. "I shared him with you, too?"
"You better believe it; I never miss an opportunity," she laughed. "Looks like we've got a lot in common."
When the surprise passed, I laughed too, thinking about the irony of both of our pussies being filled by that anonymous salesman's cock on different occasions. "Say, did you happen to get that guy's name?" I asked good-naturedly.
"Nope."
"Neither did I. I don't even remember what he looked like for sure," I confessed.
"We were talking about dick sizes," she brought me back to the subject. "If that dude was the biggest throbber you've ever had, then that means a maximum of ten inches. This dildo we've been talking about is two inches longer, and God knows how much thicker than that salesman's dork. It's okay if you want to try a smaller one. Like I said, we've got tons of them."
"The biggest," I insisted.
She scrambled up off the floor. Running over to the closet, she opened the door and disappeared inside, the clattering of objects falling on the floor resonating through the house. Finally she came out carrying a cardboard box that seemed to be filled with junk.
However, once she brought it over to me, I could see that there were a number of items which were anything but junk if one had a throbbing pussy. One item above all the others made my cunt ache in anticipation.
Miranda drew out what first looked like a thick piece of hose. A bouncy, lengthy tube of resilient black vinyl more than two feet long. But I instantly saw that it was no regular hose. For each end of the vinyl instrument was shaped like the bulbous head of a huge black prick.
"I thought you said it was only a foot," I said in excited alarm. "That thing looks more like two."
"It is," she chuckled smugly, holding it out in front of her at full length like she was a zookeeper displaying a prize python. "A foot for each of us."
"You mean we can both fuck with it at the same time?" I shrieked with joy. "Oh God, I love it!" The idea of fucking and being fucked by another woman drove me wild, my cunt itching to get started.
Miranda grinned at my excitement. She clamped her fist around the middle of the two-headed dildo, making it shake like it was alive. From the box, Miranda took out a jar of petroleum jelly and began to smear the lubricant over each glossy head.
"Oooooooh," I groaned in anticipation, my mouth watering, "how do you use that monster? Are you sure it won't kill us?"
"Don't you hope it does?" she giggled.
"You better believe it," I admitted, chomping at the bit.
"Okay, just wait another second," Miranda promised.
When she was finished rubbing the jelly into a thick, glossy sheen over the twin heads of the dildo, she smiled, pointing one knotty end of it straight at me, drawing a bead on my pulsing loins.
"Spread your legs as wide as you can, honey!" she exclaimed. "This is going to rip you apart!"
"Is that a threat or a promise?" I answered buoyantly. Following her instructions, I threw myself back on my elbows, pulling apart my thighs as I locked my knees and spread my legs, exposing my eager pussy to the maximum. Up on my elbows, by looking through the V of my outstretched legs I could see every gorgeous thing that was going to happen.
With her expert fingers, Miranda parted my soggy pussy lips. Placing the huge head of one end of the artificial cock against my cunt, she gently applied pressure.
"Ooooooh," I hissed, as the black bar slid through my parting pussy lips and slipped thickly into my waiting fuck canal. "Ooooooh, Miranda, it's going to go all the way through me."
"You wish," Miranda teased as she carefully stuffed about half the long rod into my cunt, enchanted, she watching my pussy mouth stretch into a wide O to receive the oval bar. "Now for me," she said.
The other end of the vinyl dildo curved twitchingly from my parted thighs like a real cock -- its far end rooted deep in my cunt as though it were actually growing out of my hairy crotch. Miranda looked at it for a moment, fondling it like it was a real prick, then planting a light kiss on its knotty head. As her lips brushed wetly against the end of the phallic instrument looming from my groin, I was almost certain that I could actually feel them.
Now she moved forward and straddled my hips, hovering over the swinging dildo. She smiled down at me as she got ready for her cunt to swallow her end of the hard vinyl cock. "Now you see it just like a man does -- only you're going to feel it like a woman."
"The best of two possible worlds," I answered, thrusting my pelvis so the outer end of the prick between my legs would snap impatiently at her waiting pussy.
She positioned the slick end of the dildo against her drooling snatch. Closing her eyes in bliss, she used her expert fingers to force the huge black head past the outer lips of her cunt, then, sighing, she lowered her crotch down toward mine.
Squish! The thick cock vanished into her pussy.
"Holy fuck!" she gasped as her distended cunt slid down the greased pole to smack wetly against my waiting pussy. Only a thin band of black vinyl gleamed between the slippery lips of our interlocked cunts, as we started to fuck.
Now it was my turn to gasp as the force of Miranda's descending pelvis drove the dildo further and further up my fucking canal. All evidence of the phallic implement had vanished within our pussies as her cunt pressed maddeningly against my tormented box. The tingling buds of our clits poked each other like sharp needles.
The pressure of our buckling hips drove each end of the dildo far into both our cunts. The knotty heads pushed harder and harder into our engorged screwing tunnels, the barbed heads bruising excitingly against the hidden nodules of our fuck-contracted cervixes.
"Move with me... move with me," Miranda stammered. She raised her hips with a deafening sucking noise, as a third of the black hose slid out of her cunt, and the same expanse out of mine. The vinyl cable glistened erotically with lubricant and pussy flow.
Then, without warning, Miranda lowered her hips once more. Her act drove the ebony length of the dildo right back into our cunts, making it vanish to the naked eye. As our loins crashed together again, my come-frothed snatch slapped against Miranda's beautifully hairy crotch, a foot of vinyl dick within each of us once more.
I was enraptured by the foot of hardness inside me, as Miranda's pussy squashed against my cunt. Groaning and wiggling, we reamed each other out. Every thrust of our hips... every wriggle of our asses... made the vinyl cock move inside us, the fucking we were throwing into each other stimulating hidden pleasure-points within us that neither of us could have known existed.
"Oh, that's it, baby," she moaned. "Make love to me like a man. Be a black man! Fuck me with your big black cock!"
"Oooooooh!" I replied moaningly. "Give it back to me. Fuck me, fuck me hard!"
Up and down we writhed and wrestled. Our flesh, sweaty with passion, slapped and bounced against the carpet, the thumping of our bodies shaking the walls. It seemed like our cunts would split apart as we ground our dripping love-slits together with bruising force.
The air was humid with the fragrance of flowing pussy juice and the acrid odor of wet vinyl. Our moans and whimpers mingled in an erogenous cacophony with the slurping twin smacks of the dildo sliding in and out of two foaming cunts.
Miranda leaned forward to embrace me in a gesture of total love, squashing her perfect tits against my throbbingly tender counterparts. Our arms intertwined, our mouths meeting and our tongues penetrating in an exquisite Sapphic kiss.
While we kissed, our hips continued to piston against each other, erotically fighting the black length that chained us together. In and out of our spasming cunts the long tool coursed, glistening in ebony darkness from the emulsion of jelly and pussy juice that enveloped its expanse. Spreading dampness covered the carpet under our bodies, the dark stain of love soaking through to the floorboards.
The mutual gasping accelerated until the room resonated with the sound of our uncontrollable panting. We were both coming now, our simultaneous orgasms causing each of us to try and drive the monster cock connecting us deeper into the other's cunt.
Time after time I was convinced that we had fucked each other as hard and as deeply as possible, and then a shared orgasmic thrust would send the heads of the dildo deeper into our bodies. Writhing and clutching and fucking and grasping, we rolled wildly on the floor, tumbling around the room in a climactic frenzy.
And then finally, it was over. Dropping side by side, we smiled at each other, each of us drenched in the afterglow of a perfect fuck.
"Ooooooh baby," Miranda murmured, "if I'd have come one more time my pussy would have self-destructed."
"I think mine melted," I grinned back.
"If it did, you'll have to make a special trip to Denmark and have a new one made," she kidded, "because I'm not going to let this be my last time between your legs, honey."
"Don't worry," I laughingly reassured her, "my cunt's indestructible. If it can survive all those years of my husband and not dry up and blow away, it'll last forever."
We lay nestled on our sides, face to face. Our bellies were still pressed together, exchanging warmth. Between us, the curling tube of the dildo's middle was apparent, our tired cunts still joined by a common bond.
"Let's just stay hooked together for the rest of the afternoon while we nap," Miranda suggested with a yawn. "If one of us happens to have a wet dream, it'll be dynamite."
"Just one thing, Miranda," I said.
"What?"
"If you dream you're being fucked..."
"Yes."
"Wake up and look between your legs. It'll probably be me."
Chapter Eight
If you've never laid side by side sharing two feet of stiff dildo with another woman after a perfect all-girl fuck, I'm afraid words are not sufficient to describe the joy. The aftermath of our fucking was so dreamy that I just lost track of time. I suppose I could have laid there alongside Miranda forever, feeling her tits against mine as we simultaneously engorged each other's pussy.
If the shades had been drawn I might have never become aware of the passage of time, because I never would have noticed it was dark outside when I awakened from a deep sleep, tingling from endless erotic dreams. When I saw the moon beaming through the living-room window the first thought that hit me was Daylight Savings! For it to be this dark at this time of year, it must be after 9:00. Panic rose within me when I thought of George fuming at home. George was hard to get along with at best, but he was an absolute monster when he was left alone with the kids and didn't get his dinner.
Reluctantly I got up from the floor, sadly pulling my end of the dildo from my still-sopping pussy. Miranda was still in dreamland, slumbering through an obviously erotic dream, opening her mouth and pursing her lips like she was going after a stiff cock or a wet, open pussy. I didn't have the heart to remove her end of the dildo from her cunt, leaving it looming life-like from between her clenched thighs. The black phallic expanse emerged incongruously from her femininely-sloping thighs, creating a heart-stopping contrast to her womanly curves and full, firm breasts.
I found my rumpled clothes and put them on as best I could, nut bothering to check out my appearance in the mirror. I was afraid to confront the obvious, knowing in my heart that I must look like a gang-bang victim.
Racking my brain for a plausible story to keep George from killing me, I left Miranda's and walked across the street. I dreaded the explosion that was sure to greet me the minute I walked through the door. First George would yell about dinner. Then scream about being stuck with the kids, as though I didn't have to put up with them every day.
But I could take all of that. If only he was just pissed off about being hungry and having to baby-sit. However, honesty forced me to admit there was no way he could ignore the way I looked. There was no way he could overlook the blatant evidence of my sex-racked body. I dreaded every step I took forward.
I didn't bother to knock. The thought of cringingly waiting for George to open the door and yell at me made me sick. I'd just opened the door unannounced and walked in, maybe I could get my bearings inside the terrain of the house before I had to do battle with George.
The first thing that greeted me when I delicately opened the door was the deafening crack of gunfire. I reflexively fell to the floor, dodging whatever shots might be flying in my direction.
An ambush, I thought, that bastard George was waiting to dry-gulch me with a gun. He'd found out where I'd been. He'd kill me for sure if he saw what a disheveled fucked-and-sucked shambles I was.
On my belly, I squiggled for cover. My skirt had pushed all the way around my waist by the time I got behind the couch, my bare pussy steaming openly between my parted thighs. I looked down at it, marveling over the last few hours at Miranda's.
I blessed my cunt, thanking God for its existence between my legs. Then, suddenly it occurred to me that it was probably the first thing that madman, George, would aim at. I winced, imagining my cunt blown to kingdom come by a .45 slug, wondering what would happen if I lived, and what life would be like without a pussy.
I listened from behind the sofa for his voice, always as thunderous as a bull's roar when he was pissed off. But instead there was a new burst of gunfire.
And then a siren. The sound of confusion.
All kinds of wild things occurred to me in my panicked situation. Gory images of my blasted pussy, and violent thoughts of the police hauling me away, filled my head as I temporarily lost my mental ability to cope.
It was only after a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity that I finally started to come to my senses. The shooting and commotion had stopped. Somebody was talking. Was it George? I strained for the voice.
"So the next time you get common diarrhea..."
It wasn't George. But the voice was familiar.
"You'll thank me," he concluded.
And then a different voice. Also not George's but also familiar. A deep bass, important sounding voice.
"And now back to part two of Police Saga."
Police Saga? All that shooting and noise had been from the TV set.
Who'd turned up the TV set to full blast? George would never stand for that. Maybe, just maybe, it occurred to me, he wasn't even here.
Summoning my courage, I poked my head over the top of the couch.
No George in sight.
"Bobby... Robyn," I called out, ecstatic that they would be the only ones I would have to face. "Bobby... Robyn," I called again, turning off the TV so they could hear me.
"Hey," Robyn's high-pitched voice came from the kitchen, "who turned off the Goddamn TV?"
"Robyn!" I gasped in shock, marching right into the kitchen to give her a piece of my mind, suddenly a mother again. "Who do you think you're talking to?"
"Oh, it's you, mom," she said calmly, casually pulling her arm out of the jelly jar. "I thought I was talkin' to Bobby."
"Talking to your brother is no excuse for bad language," I said sharply. "And where are your clothes?"
"Well, where are they?" I asked again.
When she still wouldn't answer, I lost my temper, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. Something deep within me told me that she was reminding me of something, with which I didn't want to deal. I squelched the notion and shook her again, demanding a response.
Suddenly she melted in my harsh grasp and began wailing, gasping out a sodden torrent of words as she told me what had happened. "We were just trying to do our best, mom, me and Bobby. You weren't home to make us any dinner, and then daddy called and said for us to tell you he was with a client and wouldn't be home until late. We didn't wanna tell him you weren't here -- we knew he'd get so mad."
My kids, I thought affectionately, they stood up for their mom.
"Why are you smiling, mom?" Robyn interrupted her story.
"Nothing dear," I said, relaxing my grip on her shoulders and turning it into a tender embrace. "Now why don't you finish your story."
"Well, after daddy called, Bobby and I were starving, and we decided since neither of you were here it'd be all right for us to make dinner."
"Why don't you have your clothes on, darlin'?" I said, giving her an extra squeeze so I could feel her breasts against my breasts.
"Promise not to get mad."
"Sure," I went along with her.
"Okay, you promised," she said, looking very serious. "Well, Bobby wanted to watch Cop Story, and I wanted to watch Police Saga because Kane Richmond is guest-starring in it this week and I love the way his pants always fit so tight... you can see practically everything."
"What do you know about that?" I blurted.
"Bobby said he'd give in and let me watch Police Saga on one condition," she continued. "That I had to take off my clothes and show him my... my, ummm... uh, mom is it all right if I call it my pussy in front of you? It's the word all the kids at school use."
"Sure."
"Bobby said if I showed him my pussy he'd let me watch Police Saga. So I agreed and took off all my clothes in front of the TV set while I was watching Kane Richmond in his tight pants. It was just like stripping in front of him...! I got so embarrassed."
"What about your brother?" I interjected, bracing myself for the rough part.
"Well, when I got my clothes off, he got down on his hands and knees and told me to spread my legs. Then he stuck his head under there. He looked at my pussy, and then, mom, you know what? He started licking me. Started running his tongue over my pussy. It was real wet and rough against the crack part. I've never felt so funny."
"Then what happened?" I gasped at Bobby's audacity.
Robyn got all excited as she told me the next part. "I told him that wasn't fair... licking my pussy like that with his rough old tongue. He was only supposed to look. I said I was gonna tell because he'd broken the rules. And then you know what he said?"
"What?" I winced in anticipation, the tingling in my body getting more intense with each second.
"He said if I told I'd never get to see what he had between his legs. Didn't I wanna see it?" he kept asking. I wanted to say no, but I'd never really seen one before. So I said yes. "I'm sorry, mom, but I just really wanted to see what a guy's prick looked like."
"Is that what they call them at your school?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, apparently not knowing there was anything nasty about the word in her innocence. "Pricks. And cocks. Pricks and cocks... aren't they the same?"
"Yes," I acknowledged. "Now go on."
"So he took off his clothes, and, oh mom..."
"Yes," I answered, the tingling making my body quiver.
"His prick was huge. All stiff and long. It had a red knob at the end. And it got all red and hot when I touched it." Her eyes grew round while she described her brother's cock.
"Yes, I know, dear," I mumbled in response, "I'm familiar with what you're talking about."
"You've seen Bobby's prick when it's stiff?" she asked incredulously.
"No, no," I stammered, flustered for some reason, my skin uncontrollably blushing. "I've seen other penises... er, pricks, when they were like that."
"Daddy's?" she asked.
"Well... yes... his, of course," I groped for the words, this naked girl reducing me to an embarrassed shambles.
"What about anybody else?" she asked boldly.
"I... I don't know what you could mean," I gasped in astonishment, wondering in alarm what might be coming.
"What about that door-to-door salesman?" she said smugly. "Bobby told me all about it. He said he saw the man leaving with a big smile on his face after staying in the house alone with you all afternoon. When Bobby came home he says he found you lying on the floor with your legs spread apart and your pussy a terrible mess. He says you gave him a buck to be quiet. Is that true?"
I nodded my head in shame.
"You know what Bobby did with that dollar? He bought a dirty magazine with it. He looks at it and jacks off in the bathroom. I've heard him in there. That's why I was so anxious to see his prick tonight for the first time." She was getting excited now, telling me all of this. "And you know what, mom, I told him I knew about it. I dared him to jack-off in front of me when he had his cock out."
"Did he?"
"Wow, did he! About ten times. Finally he got so tired from beating his meat, he went to bed. I was surprised when I thought you were him in the living room. I was sure he was out like a light."
"Then you mean that you and I are alone," I said, surprised at how I was clutching my daughter, drawing her closer to me.
"Yes," she smiled, her face suddenly looking for a fleeting instant like an experienced woman's. "Is there anything you'd like to do?" She pressed her soft cheek against mine and breathed in my ear.
"We... we've..." I stammered, totally flustered.
"Why are you shaking, mom? You can't be cold, I can feel you burning up."
"It's nothing, dear, nothing," I lied.
"Maybe it is kinda hot in here," she said, her mouth still next to my ear. "Why don't you take your blouse off? Maybe you'd feel better."
She seemed to have me under some kind of well. I just couldn't think fast enough when she asked me things. Once again I acquiesced and permitted her hands to fly to my blouse, undoing it within seconds. With my tits falling ripely, Robyn pulled the blouse over my shoulders, undressing me like she was the mother and I was the daughter. When I was nude from the waist up, she pressed her body next to mine, my naked breasts seeming huge against her tiny chest.
Now I feel like the roles had been completely and irrevocably reversed. At last I recognized the tingling that had been plaguing me since I'd encountered Robyn naked in the kitchen. It was the tingling of arousal sexual arousal. The kind of sensation that seizes you no matter how hard you try and tight it, and twists your pussy into a wet, sopping knot of dripping passion. That time had come for me now.
Without a word I lowered my face to my daughter's belly, spearing her navel with my darting tongue. "Down further," she cried, grabbing my head. She slipped backward on the floor until she was laying on her back and I was pulled between her straddling legs, on all fours with my face buried in her abdomen.
Her pink flesh blurred before my eyes until suddenly I was staring at my daughter's open pussy. Her crack was split open from the spreading of her thighs.
The instant I tasted her gooey snatch, I knew what I was doing was what [missing text].
There was pussy juice flowing from her crack. It was a precious nectar, an elixir of youth and purity that shook me from the tips of my toes to the roof of my skull. My teeth tingled as my tongue lapped my daughter's pussy, as sweet as sugar candy.
"Oooooh," she moaned, her voice dropping a couple of octaves. "I love it when you lick my pussy, mom. I love your tongue in my pussy. Stick it in harder... harder!"
I reacted like her slave. My tongue surged up her tight cunt. I orally engorged her, tongue fucking my own daughter as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Maybe it was the taste of her cunt that made me feel so free and loose. It was a hearty, natural taste, like the flavor of fresh wild honey.
While I pumpingly tongue-fucked her, the outer ridges of my mouth bathed her exterior pussy. Her snatch was slicked with a mixture of my saliva and her cunt juice.
Robyn's pussy was a marvel as it constricted tightly around my tongue. With every plunging suck I made, her immature pelvis rocked back at me, her hips churning, fueled by her aroused cunt.
Incredibly, I was on the floor now, rolling around in the nude with my own daughter. She had freed the skirt from around my waist and now I was kicking it off, my hairy adult cunt out in the open for my daughter to savor and play with.
Our pussies blazed in contrast. Mine was mature and womanly, thick red cunt lips bulging from a frame of curly pubic floss.
I climbed on top of her as though we were fucking, her legs instantly encircling my waist. Our cunts squashed together, my hairy, drooling twat pressing maddeningly against her mound and slit. Turgid and mature, my pussy engulfed the opening of Robyn's snatch, my cunt planting itself between her legs.
I ground my hips toward her crotch, and she pumped back. The movement made our cunts suck madly at each other. I could feel my pussy on the verge of exploding as spasms of coming coursed through my body. The meeting of our mother-and-daughter pussies was so hot I could feel it singe all the way to my toes, Robyn's thrusting cunt a sensuous force of white heat.
"Mom," she moaned, "let me suck your pussy. Let me feel your hair in my mouth."
Immediately I obliged, swinging around so that my dripping loins hovered over Robyn's face. I could hear her slurping as I lowered my cunt to her watering mouth, my pussy lips wetly parting as I squatted. And as I sat with my cunt on her face, I gazed lovingly at my daughter's perfect pussy, throbbing immaculately between her thighs.
When her nibbling lips brushed against my cunt mouth I went all the way, spreading my pussy lips wetly across her face. I heard a muffled moan of ecstasy as she shot her tongue against my clit. She batted it stiffly until there was no alternative but to cream in her mouth, filling it with syrupy love juice.
My cunt firmly in place, I lowered my head to Robyn's pussy, hungering for the taste of it once more. This time it met me like a hot coal, so searing in its intensity that it seemed to singe my lips.
My tongue immediately shot into her tight snatch about four inches, filling the fucking canal with hot, throbbing mother's meat. Astonishingly, she answered every one of my tongue-fucking thrusts with an oral assault on my clit. Our bodies were transformed into a writhing, shuddering, cunt-and-mouth connected family orgy.
We rolled on the floor, our legs intertwined so we could keep sucking. My cunt felt like it was going to burst. And in my mouth, Robyn's pussy felt even more desperate, literally pulsating between my lips.
Now I was on the bottom and she was on the top. Her head buried between my open thighs, Robyn's pussy arched wetly over my face, my lips sucking on it for dear life. Above me I could see the tight hole of her anus, poking like a rosebud between the parted cheeks of her beautiful pink ass. I slid my tongue out of her cunt, moving toward the inviting blush of her asshole.
As soon as I tasted the sweetness of her bum, it happened. Totally unexpected, it was incredible!
First, her hips buckled. Then, suddenly, her pussy lips flared open. A hot rush of fluid gushed out, bathing my face with its torrent. The hot, sweet taste of piss surged down my throat, a golden shower enveloping me.
"Do you like it when I piss in your face, mom?" Robyn murmured into my cunt.
"Yes, yes," I admitted, swallowing the last load of golden elixir as she stopped peeing.
"I can do it whenever I want to," she said. "Make your pussy do something in my mouth and I'll do it again for you."
I bore down, anxious to keep my part of the bargain. Through sheer will-power I accelerated my coming until every fiber of my being was given over to sex. Like a flood the cream poured from my cunt, filling my daughter's mouth with her mother's pussy come.
No sooner had my cunt flowed to the ultimate than Robyn unleashed her bladder again. A golden shower of hot piss poured into my gaping mouth, filling my senses with its sweetness. I sealed the opening of her pussy with my lips, determined to catch every drop of her elixir.
When she was finished pissing again, my tongue made its long awaited descent into her darling anus. It was a divine orifice, its flavor squeaky clean as I poked the tip of my tongue into the succulent opening.
I stabbed in a couple of inches before withdrawing. Then I lapped the furrow of her ass from her bunghole all the way to the top of her cunt. Sliding my tongue back across her snatch, once again I squeezed the sensitive tip into her tight anus.
Between my legs, she was using her fingers now to assist her mouth on my cunt. Her whole hand slid easily into my fuck canal, while her mouth devoted all of its attention to my throbbing clit. I could feel her drawing her fingers up inside my pussy, balling a fist just at the mouth of my womb.
Suddenly she started pumping her arm back and forth inside my cunt, bashing her fist furiously against my puckering cervix. She fist-fucked me violently, the combined dimensions of her forearm and fist feeling exactly like an enormous cock inside my spasming pussy.
My mouth and tongue answered every fuck-like thrust of Robyn's fist with a lathering of her crotch. My tongue was poking alternately into her tight ass and squeezing pussy now, giving her a double oral fucking. My mind spun from trying to decide which was sweetest, her sugary anus or her succulent pussy, each of them a drooling love-hole of sheer delight.
Robyn's fist thundered inside my pussy cavity, stretching the elastic wall of my cunt all the way into my intestines, twisting my body into a sensuous knot. My anatomy rattled from her fist-fucking, her penetration so deep that her elbow gazed my clit.
Then, abruptly, she withdrew her arm, suddenly leaving my pussy hollow, I felt like something that had been a part of me had been pulled from my body. A great premonition of release enveloped me.
"Are you ready to do it to me?" Robyn called, lacing her mouth against my cunt again.
Abruptly I realized what it was all about as my bladder fluttered. She had fist-fucked me to the point where my kidneys could no longer control themselves. My bladder was full to the bursting point, arousing the rest of my body like some newly discovered sex organ.
"Pee on me, mom," Robyn moaned between my legs. "Pee in my mouth like I did yours."
It was a pleasure. My bladder collapsed, sending a torrent of hot piss from my cunt. It flooded into my daughter's sucking mouth. Below me, I could hear her gulp it down. The sizzling streams that escaped the seal of her lips against my pussy trickled hotly down my inner thighs, puddling beneath my bare ass. It was fantastic.
Now I was going crazy, moving out from her crotch and licking her whole body. I writhed on top of her, my cunt still to her mouth, her lips sucking every last drop of hot yellow piss from my pussy cavity. Peeing in Robyn's mouth was giving me the greatest orgasm I'd ever experienced.
I was just getting ready to unleash a new ocean of urine when the phone rang. I wanted to just forget about it and let it ring, but Robyn brought me back to reality. "You better answer it, it might be daddy."
I reluctantly got up and staggered into the living room to answer the phone. She'd been right, it was George. He'd had a flat tire at the freeway exit and wanted me to come over there with the station wagon because he didn't have a spare.
"Thanks, Robyn," I sighed when I hung up. "It's a good thing you made me answer that."
Robyn was standing framed in the kitchen door, her cunt an angry red splotch from my licking and tongue-fucking. Gouged ceaselessly by my pussy, her face was just as red, glistening from fresh pee.
Chapter Nine
The summer was coming to a close. Soon Robyn and Bobby would be back in school, not to mention Ron. Within weeks fall would be doing its work, making it impossible to hide behind the facade of gardening to get my kicks.
As far as my pocketbook was concerned, maybe the end of summer was just as well. Not only was I having to pay off Ron and sometimes Ginny. By the first of September my household budget was wearing so thin that I was putting dinners like peanut butter on toast and Fritos on the table two or three times a week.
Finally, George blew up. Throwing aside a shingle of creamed tuna one night, he screamed at me, "What's the point of busting my ass in the insurance business if I have to eat slop like this? I might as well go on welfare if this is all working for a living gets a man."
One thing led to another and soon we were yelling at each other, my fear of him finding out how I'd been blowing the household budget forcing me to stand up to him more than I usually would have. But despite my belligerence he was not thrown off the track. Even George was smart enough to figure out that the money he'd been giving me had been going someplace besides into the house. Eventually there was no way I could put him off from demanding to know why. It was either come up with an answer or have his fist down my throat.
"I gamble," I blurted, astonished at my own inventiveness.
"You what?"
"I gamble, George, I just can't help myself. It started with playing bridge around the neighborhood, but it's long past that now. I get in the station wagon and go into the city. George, I have an honest-to-God bookie there."
"Aw, shit, I don't know whether to believe this," he groaned, obviously thrown completely for a loop.
"But it's true... true," I cried, pressing my advantage. "I'll bet on anything. Any odds that are available. Anything. You know the Chicago Cubs?"
"Yes," he gasped.
"I bet on them to win the pennant because I thought their name was cute," I miraculously improvised, hoping I'd guessed right.
"Shit!" he exploded. "Those turkeys haven't won the pennant since 1945. You gotta get some help."
"What do you mean?" I said, so caught up in my elaborate lie that I couldn't imagine what he was getting at.
"Therapy," he snapped. "Your mental health is shot to hell."
"George," I blurted, "you sound like you care."
"I care about not having a neurotic wife to come home to after I'm out slaving out there all day in the jungle making money for this family," he said grimly. "It's a dog-eat-dog world out there, sister, and it's tough enough without having to worry about some crazy slit at home pissing away all my hard-earned dough... And on gambling for chrissakes. On the Chicago Cubs. Why, at least, couldn't you have bet on pro football?"
"Please... please," I begged him, falling to my knees. I would have gladly done anything for him at that moment for his forgiveness. I would have unzipped his pants and taken his cock in my mouth if I'd thought it would have helped.
But reality was staring me in the face. There was no bulge at George's crotch. He wasn't interested in me as a person. No, he wanted me to be more like a piece of all-purpose furniture, handy and uncomplaining. Efficient and portable. Emotionless and with no feelings. He didn't want a hot-blooded passionate woman in the prime of her life. He wanted a stainless steel stepladder. A human vacuum cleaner. A super dustmop.
What was the use? I stopped begging and waited for my fate.
"You're going to a shrink," he decreed. "I know they're expensive, but at least a psychiatrist is cheaper than a bookie."
George was so adamant there was no way I could do anything but silently go along with him. He arranged the appointment himself, with a Dr. Bruce.
On Tuesday, halfway to the psychiatrist's, I realized that carrying out George's command had at least one positive aspect. It sprung me from the house. George's insistence that I see a shrink had freed me for at least a day from my existence in suburbia, and that couldn't be all bad. Gee, I thought, the shrink was helping me before I even talked to him.
My sense of freedom continued to grow and had me feeling relaxed and loose by the time I arrived at Dr. Bruce's office. By the time I got there I wasn't afraid at all of confronting a shrink, where, previously, I'd been terrified by the prospect.
The truth of the matter was that the more I thought about it the more I realized that I was looking forward to Dr. Bruce. I was looking forward to someone to talk to... someone who would understand my problems of joy and sorrows.
I decided just before his receptionist showed me into his office that I would tell Dr. Bruce the truth. Why waste my time and his with that phony gambling story? George would never find out what was going on if I went ahead and told the truth -- a doctor couldn't betray the confidences of his patients. My secrets would never go beyond this room.
Dr. Bruce was sitting behind his desk. He was younger than I'd expected and a lot better looking. Immediately I perceived him as a sexy-looking man as much as I did a psychiatrist. Something about his appearance and demeanor told me that he was going to be very interesting to talk to.
"Mrs. Fredericks?" he said with a dazzling smile.
I nodded.
"Have a seat."
"Don't you have a couch?" I said, smiling. "I thought all psychiatrists made their patients lie down on couches."
"Perhaps we'll get to that later," he grinned. I didn't know how good a shrink he was, but there was certainly no doubt he was a very good-looking guy. "Now if you'll have a seat, Mrs. Fredericks."
I slid into the leather chair situated before his desk. The cool leather kissed my thighs as I positioned myself to get comfortable, the hem of my skirt wiggling well past my knees. I tugged some at it to get it back down, but when I saw the doctor's frowning expression I stopped.
"You don't need to be nervous," he said. "Just sit any way in which you're comfortable."
"But my dress... it..." I tried to explain.
"I know, Mrs. Fredericks. I have eyes. It rode up around the tops of your legs and you feel you should be embarrassed. However, your embarrassment is merely a function of your own neuroses, probably brought about by some childhood experience you've long since repressed," he patiently explained. "As far as my seeing your bare thighs, your embarrassment is unfounded. Force the rational part of your thinking to remember that I am just your doctor, and doctors, of course, are quite used to seeing the salient aspects of the human anatomy. For example, I'll bet your gynecologist has seen you completely nude several times. He's undoubtedly inspected your breasts and peered into your vagina, yet you probably felt no embarrassment about the situation at all. Just think of this circumstance in the same fashion."
What a brilliant man, I thought. It was magic the way he could explain away my uneasiness, just as though he knew exactly what made me tick. On his advice I forgot all about my skin, letting it rumple up around my hips as much as it wanted to while Dr. Bruce and I began our doctor-patient relationship.
Dr. Bruce turned out to be a practitioner in a relatively new school of psychiatry called Primalcy. It was a form of psychotherapy which emphasized the articulation of raw, basic feelings by the patients. As Dr. Bruce explained it to me, the primalist saw all these basic feelings as primary for life. However, sometimes feelings became so massive and entrenched -- like overgrown roots -- and needed to be dredged up from the soggy bottom of the unconscious. Only when the raw, untreated feelings had been yanked into the conscious could the offending emotions be expelled. And at that point the patient was supposed to spill out the primal feelings, getting them to the surface in the most direct way possible.
"But doctor," I said, "what if your feelings are so powerful, so shattering, that you can't bear to say the words that will describe them? What if you just can't make yourself talk about it to another person, even if he is a psychiatrist?"
"Then act it out -- with your body," he said calmly. "Words are not the only force of communication. For example, I once had a patient whose underlying problem was that she wanted to be an infant again so everyone would love and take care of her. She had denied this to herself for years, and then when Primalcy Therapy forced it into her conscious, the truth of its existence stunned her into muteness lasting for three weeks. Finally, she was only able to gain her equilibrium by acting her feelings out instead of verbally articulating them. During one session she got down on the floor and actually crawled around my desk and then got into my lap, just like a baby. When she snuggled in my lap her dress came up and I noticed that she wasn't wearing any panties. Being a psychiatrist, I knew what was coming next, but before I could act it happened."
"What?" I asked, somehow strangely excited by his stow. I put my hands in my lap to keep them from fluttering.
"Well, she urinated on me, of course. Just like an infant," he said with a smile.
"Weren't you angry?" I gasped, my fingers fiddling with the hem of my skirt.
"Don't be silly," he said. "I was pleased. Infants only relieve themselves on those they trust. When it happened I knew we were making real progress."
By now my fingers were under my skirt, the tips touching my panties, tracing the line of the elastic. My pussy was uncontrollably throbbing between my thighs.
"Do... do a lot of your female patients take off their clothes?" I asked, my curiosity overcoming my inhibitions.
"First of all," he said, "women are the only kind of patients I treat. I prefer them because they're so much more sensitive than men, so much more human. And as for your question about the clothing. Certainly, many times my patients take off items of apparel. I encourage it if it will make them freer and more comfortable. For instance, I suspect right now that you'd like to be out of those panties... the way you're rubbing your fingers over them."
Suddenly, without warning, I could feel my cunt gushing into my panties. There must have been a spreading circle of dampness at the sheer crotch that he was looking at right now.
"My, my," he confirmed my suspicion, "they must be chafing against you for that to happen. Why don't you take them off. You'll feel more comfortable. The sense of freedom will help you to get more out of the therapy. Believe me, the doctor knows best."
Comfortable. Free. That's how I wanted to feel all right.
Deciding to do it, I started to get up, but he stopped me. "No need to be formal and stand up," he said, "just take them off while you're sitting in the chair. The patient is always right in this office. I like to think I practice what might be called Consumer Psychiatry."
Going along with him I pushed my fingers under the elastic, feeling my bare belly. The panties slid down my hips, their wetness causing a smacking sound when their sopping crotch was pulled from the moistness of my pussy. Within seconds they were over my knees and around my ankles. Then I froze, not being able to figure out what one does with a sopping pair of panties in a psychiatrist's office.
"Just kick them onto the floor," he said. "You can pick them up and put them in your purse on the way out."
I gave a big kick, sending the sopping missile all the way across the room where they landed in a heap. When I started to bring my leg down, I remembered Dr. Bruce's admonitions about being comfortable and hooked it over the armrest. I lolled back in my chair with my thighs apart, self-conscious about nothing.
"You have a beautiful cunt," he said, running his tongue over his lips.
"My gynecologist never told me that," I giggled.
"Well, you'll find that gynecologists and psychiatrists use somewhat different techniques," he said. "Especially those of us practicing Primalcy. Now, tell me what brings you here. I notice your card here says something about gambling."
"I guess that's what my husband told the nurse when he made the appointment for me," I explained. "He just thinks gambling is my problem because I told him that's what accounted for where all the household money's been going, and why everything's been in such a mess around the house lately."
"What really is the problem?" he asked, leaning forward across his desk with obvious anticipation.
"My husband," I said tersely. "George is the problem. He doesn't satisfy me."
"And...?" His mouth seemed to be watering.
"I have to play around behind his back to keep from going nuts. Although I guess that's a funny thing to say when your husband thinks you're so screwy already he makes an appointment for you to see a shrink."
"And the money," Dr. Bruce said. "Where does the money go?"
"This summer I've been paying a young man to... uh... uh..." Suddenly my candor failed me and I was at a loss for words. When I started to tell him about Ron, all of a sudden it struck me as absurd. Who would believe that a full-grown, attractive woman of thirty-eight would pay a young man ten dollars a throw to fuck her?
"What does the young man do to you?" Dr. Bruce asked, practically bridging the top of his desk now in his excitement. "Go ahead, you can say it. You can say anything in this office. I want to hear it."
"I've been paying him to... fuck me," I let it out. With my admission of my relationship with Ron, the psychic pendulum abruptly swung full tilt and all of a sudden I wanted to say everything explicitly. "He sticks his cock in my pussy and he fucks me."
"Are there others?" the doctor asked, staring right between my open legs.
"At first there weren't," I said, "but lately it seems like everyone I can get my hands on. I'm starting to wonder if I can even control it any more."
"Both sexes?" he asked.
"Yes," I admitted. "Even my daughter."
"How was it?"
"Oh, doctor, it was divine!" I gushed, totally unable to hold anything back. "Her pussy was sweeter than you can imagine. And so tight. I can't wait to eat her cunt again. Doctor, does that mean I'm sick?"
"It means you're a normal, healthy woman," he said, drawing back from the desk top and starting to get up.
"Really?" I asked hopefully. "Are you sure?"
"I'm a psychiatrist, aren't I? If you don't believe me, I can prove you're normal right now in this office," he said, walking towards me. Unless my erotic imagination made my eyes deceive me, there was a thick round bulge at the crotch of his expensively tailored pants.
"But how?"
"You're afraid you might be sexually abnormal, correct?" he said, coming up right in front of me. I stared not at his face, but at the apparent bulge in his pants, thirsting to know if it was real.
"Well... yes... yes..." I stammered.
"All right, then, I'm going to show you something. Something a sexually normal woman would respond to," he said, his hands dropping below his waist. "If you start to get shocked when you see it, just remember that I'm showing it to you for strictly medical purposes."
His fingers slid under the flap of his fly and grasped the zipper tab, pulling it down with a screech. Within seconds his hand was in his open fly and pulling out his cock, inch after inch of erect meat springing from his pants. When I saw it all unsheathed it looked as long as my end of Miranda's dildo, a swollen organ of incredible thickness.
"Now a sexually normal woman, seeing a cock like this, would immediately want to suck it," he explained. "Just be honest with yourself, Mrs. Fredericks, you'd like to wrap your lips around my prick, wouldn't you? You'd like to touch it and fondle it, and play with my balls. You'd like to take the head all the way down your throat. You'd like to run the foreskin over the head and the shaft with your tongue, now wouldn't you, Mrs. Fredericks?"
"Yes, yes!" I cried, lurching forward, grabbing for his twitching dick. "Please let me suck it. I can't stand not to suck your cock!"
My primal impulses completely dominated me as I threw my face forward, my mouth speeding toward his throbbing cock like there was a magnetic attraction between the two. Its head was instantly between my lips, as I bathed it with warm spit, lolling the heart-shaped flange over my tongue and teeth and gums.
"I see you really know how to suck a cock," he said, as I nibbled farther and farther down on his suspended rod. "AS a doctor, I'd like to remind you that sucking a cock like this is definitely something a sexually normal woman would do. Am I clear?"
"Mmmmmm," I slurped my reply, bearing down on the stalk of his cock so I was halfway to his hairy balls. While I was sucking, I ran my hands up to the top of his trousers, tugging to get them loose so they would fall to the floor. I wanted him naked so I could throw my arms around his waist and feel his smooth ass in my hands.
"This, too, is a normal reaction by a woman," he said, helping me to get his pants and shorts off.
When he was totally nude from the waist down, my arms encircled him, my fingertips winding up doing a dance in the downy furrow of his ass.
"Stick your finger in my ass while you're sucking my cock," he said from above me. "That's what a normal woman would do."
Desperate to have my actions sanctioned by normalcy, and eager to feel the sweet moistness of his asshole, I quickly complied. His anal ridges throbbed against my fingertip just before I slid it in his ass.
In my mouth his prick was gouging deeper and deeper. I took hold of the six inches of cock that still wasn't between my lips and slowly began to masturbate it. As I tugged at his foreskin his cock-head throbbed maddeningly in the vise of my throat. Incredible sweetness pervaded my senses.
I had my finger up his ass far enough now to begin fruitfully pumping it, reaming him out with miniature fucking motions. Through his membrane I could feel the bulging knot of his prostate gland bulging in excitement, as hard as a stone.
Every time my finger thrust up his asshole, Dr. Bruce's prostate throbbed and his pelvis bucked forward, crashing his dick down my throat. My fingers continued to work the exposed part of his prick, tracing his cock all the way down to its roots in the base of his balls. A come was already starting to dribble out of the end of his prick from fucking my mouth, and simultaneously having his ass pronged. I knew that when he finally came full-force it was going to be excruciating.
The thought of his impending come made me want to fuck. Suddenly I wanted nothing else in the world except his cock in my pussy.
I slid my mouth from around his prick and told him the way I felt. "Dr. Bruce I've got to have you inside of me," I said plaintively, tensing the finger still imbedded in his gooey asshole. "And I don't care if it's normal or not."
"Do you need it?" he said, looming formidably above me.
"Yes, yes, I need it," I cried hungrily.
"What do you need?"
"I need your cock in my cunt. I need you to fuck me. Please... please... fuck me!"
"Now I think it's time for you to lie down on the couch," he said, and held out his hand to me.
It was a long, gleaming expensive piece of furniture, more like an elegant reclining chair than a couch. It was upholstered with soft yellow leather. I tinged, imagining what it would feel like against my bare skin, as I peeled off the rest of my clothing, panting to fuck.
"Wow," I said, as I dropped my bra to the floor and felt my tits springing free, "this is the first time I've actually seen one of these. It looks just like a psychiatrist's couch does in the movies."
"Yes, it's a beauty, isn't it?" he said. "It has seven positions."
Yearning to try it out, I threw myself on it, rolling over on my back when my naked flesh hit the smooth leather. I was quickly in the perfect fucking position, propped up on my elbows so I could see everything that was going to happen, with my legs parted to the ultimate. My cunt flexed invitingly at him, begging him to plunge his stiff rod in my love hole. I'd never wanted to fuck more in my life.
He eased between my open legs, zeroing in with his hot lance. When the throbbing tip of his prick was but inches from my hungrily awaiting pussy, I seized it. My fingers wound around his shaft, guiding the head of his dick right to where I wanted it to go.
His cock-head brushed against the stiffness of my clit, piercing my slick pussy lips. When I had the tip of him inside me, I wiggled my ass, sending a tremor down the stalk of his cock that made his balls contract.
My cunt was so lubricated with horny arousal that he slid easily in. He had no trouble burying at least eight inches of his cock's foot-long length with a single push. The core of my being abruptly filled with hot, throbbing prick. I bucked my hips, my body rhythmically grinding in a classic fucking motion.
I snaked my arms around his waist, once again searching for the perfect pucker of his asshole. My experienced finger immediately found his glowing anus, shoving instantly inside to the third knuckle. His asshole was a gooey trough now, stimulated into oozing stickiness by having been finger-fucked before. And now I really reamed him out, aiming downward with my pumping thrusts so my fingertip would be sure to continually strike the throbbing rock of his prostate.
The fingerfucking I was giving his ass only made his cock work harder. It reached incredible depths within my pussy, surging at least ten inches inside.
There was only one thing left to make my rapture complete as Dr. Bruce fucked me. With my free hand I groped for his balls, squeezing them firmly. In my grip I could feel them tighten every time I jabbed his ass and tightened my cunt. His entire reproductive system knotted into an elongated fist of passion.
And then, just when I thought I couldn't take any more without coming so hard I'd shatter, both of us started to move together uncontrollably. It was incredible, as though we had been lifted into space and there were no restraints of gravity to inhibit our fucking. Like a waterbed, but a dozen times more fantastic.
"How do you like this position?" Dr. Bruce whispered in my ear as his prick surged further than ever before into my jack-knifed body.
I answered with a thrust of my impossibly contorted pelvis. The penetration was deeper than I had thought humanly possible. When I looked between my legs, I saw that at last he was in me to the hilt, an entire foot of thick cock imbedded in my pussy.
Then, suddenly, we started moving again, this time going the opposite way. And then, as the couch humped under my back and made my pussy the highest point of my body, I noticed the whirring.
"The couch, the couch!" I cried with delirious ecstasy. "You're making the couch move!"
"Which position would you like next?" he asked, sliding his dick greasily in and out of my humped cunt.
"All of them!" I screamed with joy. "All seven of them!"
"Well, not at once," he chuckled, reaching over the side and pushing a button.
The whirring couch suddenly started to fold up, compressing our bodies so that our loins seemed to melt together. Then it went backward... then forward... dipping... flattening.
How many positions were there? Only seven? It seemed impossible there could be that few. There seemed like dozens as Dr. Bruce's finger was constantly on the button now, our fucking rhythm dictated by the bizarre manipulations of the psychiatrist's couch.
It was back in the jack-knife position that I started to come, feeling the cream erupt from my pussy walls and swamp the doctor's engorging prick. I yearned for a simultaneous explosion, lusting for him to spill his juice at the same time I did. To make him come I pressed my finger deeper and deeper into his ass, gouging downward so his prostate would send the message to his balls to erupt.
His dick inside my pussy was my barometer as to the success of my efforts up his ass. When his cock thrust forth that last fraction of an inch just before he came, I started to slowly slide my finger out of his anus, scraping the tender lining with my nail.
Like I was pulling a cork from a champagne bottle, I painstakingly withdrew my finger from his ass, crooking the knuckle so it would be like a corkscrew up his anal canal. Licking my lips at the anticipated result, I finally withdrew all the way, my knuckle popping as it left his hole. Instantaneously his come shot from his cock into my pussy, bathing my thirsty fuck canal with a spurting ocean of sperm.
The flow of his come was more than the limit my pussy could take. As he kept spurting, I could feel the goo sliding out of my box, gazing my thighs and trickling onto the couch. The combination of fresh semen and leather against our flesh made us slide on the couch as we came and came. My body seemed to be going every which way, only my cunt anchored by Dr. Bruce's heavy, spearing, ejaculating prick.
"Let me lick the rest of it off," I panted to him, wanting to taste his come before my pussy swallowed it all. "Pull out and lay back so I can suck your prick."
His dangling hand pressed the button and within seconds we were stretched out as flat as boards. He pulled out of me as I'd asked, rolling over so his cock stood straight up in the air.
I was pleased to see that his prick was still oozing come as I sat up and gazed hungrily at his crotch. It was amazing that he was still so stiff after all the fucking he'd done, and even more astounding that there was still some come left to spill from his prick.
I started my licking at the base of his balls, knowing that I would immediately taste came no matter where I began. His crotch was just covered with the stuff, both male and female cream drenching his loins.
The exquisite taste of pussy juice mixed with sperm made my nostrils flare as I lapped his balls. I put one ball in my mouth and dissolved the stickiness, and then the other, taking both of them at once. When the come was finally gone, I released him, his scrotum as pink as the cheeks of a baby's ass.
My tongue worked around the well of his crotch, lapping the gobs of sperm and cunt juice from his thickly matted cock hair. Every crinkly strand of hair that caught in my mouth was like pure ambrosia as I sucked them from between my teeth and swallowed them along in the river of heavenly juice.
His prick stood up straighter and straighter as I finally started to scale it with my tongue, marveling anew at its length. It was hard work licking him clean, so enormous was his tool, the sperm and pussy juice having stuck to his prick like thick, rich honey.
The veins of his cock throbbed against my tongue and lips, telling me that the fires of excitement were raging near peak fury again with his tireless instrument. By the time I got to the head, his loins were propelling his prick in a renewed fucking motion. His hips started to buckle just as violently as they had when he had come in my pussy, and now I realized that if I kept sucking he would come a second time -- this time in my mouth.
I licked the last of the old come off the head of his dick, eagerly wiping his cock as clean as a whistle so I could start anew. This time I didn't swallow the whole organ; I just kept the knotty end between my lips, while my excited fingers did the rest of the work.
Slowly I jerked his pliant foreskin back and forth along the expanse of his cock, jacking him off with all the inventiveness I could muster. I let my lips droop just lightly enough so there was enough room to push his loose dick skin inside my mouth, holding it there until I suddenly yanked it back, his whole body shuddering from the friction.
Even though it was already coated with fuck juice, my stomach grumbled in anticipation of the new load I was milking, craving the impending nourishment from his cock. To stimulate him I did wonders with my tongue, driving its tip into his slit and diminutively fucking the tip of his prick. The tissues of his urethra sucked against the tip like a tiny cunt, begging to be stimulated.
The longer I had to wait for his ejaculation, the more excited I got. Finally my arousal was so great that I had no choice but to abandon my slow, tantalizing ways. I really started whacking his meat, jacking him off the way a horny teenager would handle his dick while drooling over a Penthouse centerfold. I sucked madly at the head of his cock, trying, to suction the come out of it.
To hasten matters my finger plunged into his asshole. His anus was tight and gooey, throbbing from the oral laceration his dick was taking. I began slowly pumping, working up a froth inside his asshole. Kneading his enlarged prostate, I brought him closer to the brink of the second coming.
In my excitement I stuffed a second finger in his ass... and then a third. When there still seemed to be room, I added my pinkie and thumb, creating a tremendous knot at the core of his body. The distension forced his cock to shoot unbelievably into my throat, the frantic jerking of my fingers around his tool replaced by my wildly sucking lips.
I balled my fingers within his ass, gasping at the elasticity of his sweet shithole. As I began slowly pumping my wrist, my fist slid along his anus, making his prick pitch like falling timber in my mouth.
From the way he was shaking now I knew he was ready to come a second time. My mouth twitched as it waited to be inundated with fresh semen. Paving the way, my fist bashed into his colon and them abruptly retracted, sliding with a loud pop all the way out of his bunghole. The sensation must have been five times greater for him than when I had just pulled one finger out of his ass when we'd been fucking. He bayed like a wounded animal as my fist came ripping out of his ass, and them spilled his load into my mouth, the come flowing in a torrent.
I threw my hands to my face. My fingers pressed to my mouth, trying to hold in the streaming come that was already oozing out. My cheeks were taut with the excess of semen inside. My throat gagged. I couldn't swallow fast enough because of his constant spurting refills.
Finally the pressure was too great for me to endure. My mouth erupted as though I were vomiting. Dr. Bruce's cock came out first in the rush, followed by a mouthful and throatful of steaming sperm. It splattered all over both of us, bathing my neck and tits, and splattering all over the doctor's crotch.
My hands pounced on my tits, slurping up the come with my fingers and ferrying it to my mouth. I raised a breast and licked it, craning my head so I could swirl my tongue around the turgid nipple and lick the sperm off. Then I did the same with the other tit, glowing in the combined taste of my doctor's love juice and my own sweet breast.
I went for his groin now, licking off the come that matted his pubic bush. His balls were even sweeter than before. My tongue snaked all the way under to his ass. It was drooling with deliciousness.
I stuck my fingers in his ass again, lingering just long enough to capture a load of his anal drool. Then I eagerly brought it from between his thighs to my mouth, tasting his sweetness by greedily cramming my fingers in my mouth like a child snatching maple syrup on the sly.
His dick was finally wilting. Even growing limp it was still formidable though, greater when softening than most men's cocks when hard. Even limp it would beat one of George's so-called hard-ons by at least two inches on the coldest day of the year.
He was collapsed from exhaustion, comatose, with his eyes closed. Obviously the doctor was through for the afternoon. I couldn't help but wonder what he'd do about his next appointment.
I got up and gathered my clothes, putting them on as best I could, and stuffing my sopping panties in my purse. Over at the doctor's desk I found a prescription pad and wrote him a note.
"Dear Dr. Bruce: See you same time next week. I think you really can help me with my problems."
As I signed my name a sudden inspiration hit me. After placing the note right in the middle of his blotter, I reached inside my purse. Extracting my sodden panties, I balled them up and plopped them on top of the note. They were so wet with pussy juice they'd be sure and hold the note down until the doctor finally discovered it.
My weekly appointments with Dr. Bruce helped immeasurably. Not because of the usual psychiatric reasons, but because seeing him guaranteed a cock up my pussy at least once a week, and right now I needed that certainty.
Summer was over. Just like that the kids were back in school, gone all day. Ron was back in school too, of course, I'd been having such a ball that I'd never stopped to consider that some day it would be over. But it was.
And then, just when our "coffee breaks" were getting to be a regular thing, Miranda Fossgraves' husband made a new killing in the plastic business by exporting some life-like vinyl pussies from Hong Kong, and he used the profits to move them to a bigger house in a classier suburb.
Except for the hope of an occasional salesman, Dr. Bruce was all I had. And while his foot-long cock was overly generous, it wasn't enough. Not for me. My sessions with the shrink had guaranteed me a weekly fuck with the biggest prick I'd ever seen, but they had done nothing to curb my appetite for more and more sex. It seemed like the harder and longer the doctor and I fucked every Tuesday, the more I wanted when I left the office. Once or twice I might have pounced on his receptionist, except that she was about sixty years old and had warts.
Meanwhile, on Tuesdays I was still seeing the psychiatrist. It was expensive for George -- but he went along with it because I seemed so happy.
I looked forward to seeing Dr. Bruce on Tuesday for the next long, hot summer.
