It seems very much a truism that people are basically creatures of habit, that they cling stubbornly to ingrained patterns and beliefs rather than explore unfamiliar ground. Very often a cataclysmic event is the only means of prying a person loose from a cherished behavior pattern or belief.
Witness the long-time opponent of socialized medicine who, upon discovery that a family member is critically ill with cancer, suddenly reverses his position. Or the cynic who shunned his fellow man who suddenly finds himself giving aid to beleaguered fellow survivors of a natural disaster.
Sheila Smith is a woman of definite beliefs, a woman who clings to the patterns and standards she has been taught should be followed by a devoted wife. It is only when she can. take her husband's lack of attention no longer that she is willing to change her ways and attempt to extract the most from her life.
WIFE ON THE MAKE-the story of a woman suddenly placed in trying and unusual circumstances. And how would someone else react? A timely question-one we would do well to consider.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Two fingers wiggled inside my gooey cunt. They were all the way in past the second knuckle, now, working their way up the sticky tract toward my cervix.
Further and further they squirmed inside me. I could feel the third pair of knuckles scraping against the inner lips of my pussy as they forged their way within.
There was no doubt about it: I was being expertly finger-fucked.
And with good reason. The fingers knew the inside of my cunt the way a dentist knows his way around the inside of a mouth.
Every move they made was the right move.
Every button they pressed was the right button.
Buttons that set off alarms in my head. Made my heart leap into my throat and stay there, heating wildly.
Made my breasts tingle. And my nipples throb.
Made my pussy sopping wet.
I was getting homier and homier by the second. A third finger joined-the first two, and immediately plunged up my cunt to the hilt. I could hear my box squish as it joined the others.
The fingers spread, widening the tunnel of my pussy for something bigger. Something thicker.
Something harder.
A cock!
A big, delicious, hot, throbbing cock.
A man's cock. A huge, hard one. A cock with a head on it like a miniature lion's.
Almost a foot of pulsing male meat, twitching from a set of churning balls.
I had to have it. I drooled for it at both ends of my body. My mouth watered. My pussy gushed.
It was time for the fingers to come out, and for a man's hard-on to take their place. I wanted to feel my cunt completely stuffed with cock. I wanted every inch of it inside me until I could feel the nuts squashing against my pussy lips.
But the fingers remained. There was no cock.
Alas, the fingers were my own.
Once again I was spending a lonely afternoon playing with myself. I would keep finger-fucking myself until I finally made myself come. Then I would leave my place in front of the mirror and go to the living room and vacuum-or to the kitchen to start dinner-until the urge hit me again.
I might be pouring Sani-Flush down the toilet. Or separating the whites from the colors so I could do the laundry. Pasting my trading stamps in a booklet.
Suddenly it would hit me. Right between the legs. My cunt would start to tighten like the lips had been tied together and were being pulled into a knot.
I would have to have an orgasm or I'd never get a thing done the rest of the day. Coming became as much of a necessity as breathing. I just had to come.
Whatever it was that was filling my hands was replaced by my cunt. On my way to the bedroom I slid my fingers inside my panties and began manipulating my already sopping pussy.
By the time I got in front of the mirror, I was already removing my skirt. Bug-eyed with desire, I watched my dripping panties roll down my hairy crotch. When my cunt was finally exposed, I licked my lips like a child savoring an ice-cream cone.
On their way down my legs, my panties made my thighs sticky with wetness. It would never come out in the wash. My uncontrollable pussy had ruined yet another pair of panties.
Naked from the waist down, I sat in a chair and propped my legs up on the vanity table. It provided me a perfect shot in the mirror of my oozing snatch.
With my thighs spread tautly, the mouth of my cunt was open as far as it could go. The lips were pulled apart in a vertical yawn. Juice bubbled from within.
Poking out of a hood of flesh at the top, my clit throbbed erectly.
I could see everything. Everything of my pussy.
My fingers went inside automatically. They were the only alternative I had available to bring me back to normal. They had to make me come or I'd never get back to being a normal housewife.
Two fingers fucking me. Then three. Sometimes four.
Sometimes my whole hand, forming into a fist. Frequently I would get so turned-on that the only way out was a good, solid fist-fucking.
While I was masturbating my mind was filled with the raunchy images of sex. When the pressure reached its peak intensity, I closed my eyes and imagined that it was a real cock fucking my pussy instead of just my fingers. It surged in and out of my spasming cunt, screwing me to the hilt.
Harder and harder it fucked me. Deeper and deeper it probed. My hips buckled like my spine was breaking. I was fucking back as hard as I could.
It's a wonder the neighbors couldn't hear me. I moaned and whimpered. Near the end I cried. Tears actually came to my eyes when I started to really come.
Pussy juice poured from between my legs. My womb expanded and contracted like an interior cunt. My asshole burned like a glowing ember. My nipples twitched at the ends of my quaking tits.
Over and over again I whammed into myself, my fingers knotting so they resembled the head of a cock. My mind was as engorged as my cunt, imagining that I was really being fucked by the prick I craved.
Then, all too quickly the coming was over. I fought to retain the orgasmic glow, but it always slipped away too soon. Within mere moments the fleeting thrill would be gone and I'd resume my real-life identity as Sheila Smith, world's most bored housewife.
The tears would remain in my eyes. However, their source was transformed from joy into sadness.
For some reason, it always made me cry when I finished coming and saw my own fingers in my cunt at the end of it. There was something so sad and lonely about masturbating.
However, that was certainly consistent. There was something sad and lonely about just being Sheila Smith. If anybody had a more tedious and meaningless life than I did, I had yet to meet them. And if I did ever meet such a person, it was a cinch we would drive each other unconscious with boredom.
Why was I so discontented? I would sometimes ask myself. After all, hadn't my husband, Bill, provided me with brand-new suburban ranch-style house to keep spick-and-span? Not to mention a Mercury station-wagon that I could drive to the super-market and fill the back up with groceries to my heart's content.
There was no doubt about it, Bill was a good provider. In fact, the only thing he wasn't good at providing was himself. And that, of course, was exactly where my problem lay.
Like any normal woman, I needed easy access to a man. Unfortunately, the man I had married-the man I had vowed to spend the rest of my life with-wasn't giving it to me.
He was always busy at that damn insurance agency. Building up a future for us and the family we'd have someday, he said.
He was so responsible. So caring. The only thing he didn't care about was the present.
My pussy was a disaster area. For the first several months of our marriage I tried every way I could think of to get him to put out the flames with his big fire hose of a cock. But he was always too tired from working so hard at the office. The weekend was a loss because he either sat in front of the TV swilling down Schlitz and watching football, or went someplace with the boys.
Finally, after more rebuffs than I could count, I just gave up. I tried to tell myself that Bill's indifference was actually a result of his devotion to our future, and that I should see it as a compliment. I could have tried to tell myself that I was the Queen of Rumania and been about as convincing.
When it finally dawned on me that I wasn't getting anyplace with Bill, and it was too humiliating to try any more, I threw in the towel and began masturbating to satisfy my desires. Even the times he did pull out his big, long cock and fuck me didn't placate me, because I knew it would be two or three weeks before I saw his member stiff again.
More and more it was me, myself and I in front of the mirror. Spreading my legs. Drooling at the sight of my own cunt. Slipping my fingers inside. Finger-fucking myself until I came.
I felt like a horny rat in a maze.
CHAPTER TWO
I couldn't stand hanging around the house any more. I decided to go out and get a job. A part-time job, so I could leave after nine in the morning and be home after five in the afternoon, and Bill would never know I'd left the house. He was a very old-fashioned husband about wives working.
There was only "one problem. I didn't know how to do anything.
My high-school diploma and a token would get me a ride on the bus. The most demanding subject I'd taken during my formal education was cheerleading.
Cheerleading was how I'd met Bill, as a matter-of-fact. He was the quarterback of the football team.
However, that isn't why I was attracted to him.
The reason Bill Smith was the best catch in the senior class was because he had the biggest dick in the whole high school. And, believe me, in those days he really liked to use it.
After graduation, Bill had gone off to the state university on a football scholarship while I stayed at home. We were pinned the night of the senior prom, and he made me promise to wait for him.
I had many a lonely night wet-dreaming over Bill's magnificent hard-on, but somehow I managed to keep my sanity. Ironically, as it turned out, he missed my wet pussy even more than I missed his prick, and finally came back home from college to stay. He said he couldn't live without me and that he wanted to marry me. Like any girl in love, I immediately said yes.
That was over two years ago. Taking a job in an insurance agency, Bill was determined to make up in intensity and drive for his lack of a college degree. Pretty soon he was selling more insurance than anybody. But he had to work sixteen hours a day to do it.
Now the owner of the agency, Mr. North, was getting ready to retire. He was so impressed with Bill that he was grooming him to take over the agency. Sixteen hours a day became the minimum.
In two years, my Bill had gone from the bottom to the top in the insurance business. I was happy for him-and miserable for myself.
In those same two years, I had gone nowhere.
Before we were married, when Bill was only coming home every other weekend and holidays from college, I was getting fucked more than I was now. I hadn't masturbated regularly since I was thirteen years old, now I was driven to the point where I was finger-fucking myself whenever I got the chance.
I had to do something with myself ... quickly. If I didn't have the usual qualifications for a part-time job, I'd have to make up some unusual ones of my own.
As I was dressing to go to the employment agency, I took stock of my biggest asset: my appearance. There was no use in being modest, I was a very attractive young woman. If I was going to get anyplace in the job market, it was apparent I'd have to reply on my body rather than on my brain and background.
I had decided to wear a very clingy jersey dress. But I was dissatisfied because the panty-line showed through. No matter how I adjusted my bikini panties underneath, they were as obvious as if I'd been wearing them on the outside of the dress.
Finally, I got so irritated that I just took them off. I liked the feel of my bare cunt between my thighs so much, that I just decided to leave the situation at that. I walked out of the house with nothing on underneath.
The employment agency I selected was one of those that dealt in fill-in help for local businesses. If, for example, a secretary was out with the flu, the agency would temporarily replace her for a busy executive with somebody with similar skills.
I, of course, didn't know the typewriter keys from piano keys, but I figured I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. If I started with only temporary work, the chances were that the regular girl would be back before the boss would discover how lousy I was-and in the meantime I would have been giving myself on-the-job training.
But first, I had to get past the interviewer at the employment agency. Obviously they weren't going to endanger their reputation by sending out unqualified klutzes if they could help it.
The guy who talked to me was named Mr. Brown. From the first instant I saw him I knew I was going to have my work cut out for me. He looked as devoted to the employment agency as Bill was to his insurance business.
When I sat down in a chair to talk to him, I felt my bare ass squish against the cool vinyl upholstery. Immediately I hit upon the only tactic that could possibly get me through the interview with this stem man and referred to the job I wanted.
"Well, now, Mrs. Smith," he said, after getting down all of my preliminary information, "I see here that your education does not extend past high school. As I'm sure you're aware, a high school diploma these days is only proof that you were alive and breathing until you were eighteen. What else do you have to offer?"
What could I say? Absolutely nothing. There was no denying the implication of his sarcastic tone. My job qualifications were zilch.
So why even try to say anything? Instead I squirmed in my chair. The slick vinyl was perfect for what I had in mind. My skirt wriggled up to the tops of my thighs. He could see my garter snaps cinching into my stockings, if he'd only look.
I coughed, but that didn't work. The dummy kept looking me straight in the eye, trying to stare me down in some kind of silly interview-game.
When I finally dropped my purse, it hit him in the foot. He reached down to pick it up, and found himself staring right between my legs. My thighs were at least six inches apart. My bare pussy was wide-open.
"Is there anything wrong, Mr. Brown?" I asked after he'd been goggle-eyed and mute at least a full minute.
"No ... no...." he stammered "I ... I ... just...."
"Maybe you were just thinking that you can't always tell a book by its cover," I suggested. "When I first walked in here, you weren't impressed. But now after interviewing me, perhaps you've decided maybe I have some hidden assets."
"Exactly," he gushed. Spit foamed at the comers of his mouth.
"Would you like a demonstration, Mr. Brown? I wouldn't want you to send me to a job you didn't think I could handle."
It was like taking candy from a baby. Since we were in his private office with the door closed, whatever happened was just between the two of us. While he ogled my box, I rolled up my dress, giving him a clearer and clearer shot of what was between my legs.
By the time my skirt was bunched around my waist, I had my thighs apart as far as they could go. Mr. Brown was a pale-faced shell of his formerly all-business self. He was as transfixed as a child before a toy-store window during the week before Christmas.
"Would you like to lick my cunt and see how it tastes?" I asked him as though I was inviting him to sample my stenography. "It's very sweet. And wet. I'd like to feel your tongue inside it."
His tongue flopped automatically from his mouth like I had pulled it out with wires. It was big and red and dripping. And after I flexed my cunt at him, it was stiff.
I grabbed his head and pulled his face toward my loins. Seizing him in the well of my crotch, I imprisoned his head with my clutching thighs. Right now he was getting a nose full of pussy fumes, and a mouthful of juice.
"Your tongue, your tongue," I hissed urgently. "You'll never know now good I can be until you fuck me with your tongue."
Gradually the thick hunk of meat began to slide between my pussy lips. The tastebuds tickled agonizingly against the tender petals of my cunt as he slowly worked his way inside. Obviously, this job interview was as new an experience for him as it was for me. According td my plan, I had reduced him to my level.
"Harder, harder," I encouraged him. "Let me feel your tongue all the way in my cunt. Let me feel it dance inside me."
Intoxicated by the taste of my overflowing honey pot, he started to get bolder. Fraction by fraction his tongue engorged my tight fuck-pit until it was in all the way. I could feel the lips of his mouth nibbling against the lips of my pussy.
When he had completely sealed my cunt with his mouth, and was soul-kissing it, I was ready to make my next move. With his face imbedded between my steaming thighs, I slid down from the chair and dropped to the floor. Moving with me every inch of the way, Brown continued his increasingly ardent cunt-eating.
"Your cock," I leaned forward and whispered in his ear while he ravaged my muff. "Get your cock out. I want to suck your cock while you're eating my pussy."
It was as though his body were totally under the control of my thoughts. Unable to resist my will, his hand flew to his fly and screeched down the zipper. After a moment of frantic fumbling, his fingers were knotted around several inches of bare, throbbing peter.
"Swing around on me and we'll sixty-nine," I said.
As though I were a sergeant and he a buck private, he immediately obeyed. His sucking mouth swiveled around on my cunt as he turned his body 180 degrees. Before I knew it I found myself with no alternative but to wrap my lips around his throbbing hard-on.
His prick was a big one, capable of sending its barbed head all the way down my throat. Its salty taste made my nostrils flare as I gobbled inch after inch until there was no more to swallow. His hairy balls tickled against my chin."
I constricted my cheeks, making my mouth as much like a cunt as possible. His dick kept swelling and swelling, somehow always getting harder.
It was the first cock I'd eaten since one night weeks ago when Bill had had enough to drink to forget what a square he'd become. I chomped on it like a starving coyote with a piece of raw meat after days of existing on juniper berries. I was a jackal for sex, feasting on whatever came my way.
Meanwhile, between my legs, the interview was going swimmingly. My cunt was a fountain of goo, giving the mouth eating it all the juice it could swallow.
Six inches of tongue reamed out my fuck-canal, the tip tickling maddeningly against the puckering module of my cervix. My womb spasmed as uncontrollably as my cunt.
God, I was so hot and turned on. My pussy was so wet. Brown's lancing tongue had gotten me even more desperate for a fuck than I got myself with my fingers before the mirror at home. I had to have a fuck.
,A real fuck.
A fuck with a nard dick inside my pussy.
I wanted to wrap my legs around a man, and pull him in toward me while his dick split my pussy. I wanted his prick so far inside me that it felt like it was going to split me in two.
"Fuck me," I slobbered as I let Brown's cock slip out of my mouth. "I want to be fucked."
His tongue came out of my cunt and he moved his body around. I kissed him passionately while I slid my hand to his groin. Grabbing his throbbing hard-on, I expertly guided it toward my frothing cunt.
There, it was inside. His cock-head was completely inside my pussy lips. They clutched for dear life.
Grinding my hips, I began the excruciating process of working his prick into me to the hilt. It was such a long dick that it took a long time. A long, sweet time.
Each succeeding inch was sweeter than the previous one. My box was packed tighter and tighter. My cunt felt better and better.
Then it was in to the hilt. His cock was in my cunt as far as it could go. His balls slammed against the bottom of my crotch as he fucked me.
Pumping his prick like a piston, Brown screwed me like crazy. All this restraint was gone now as he had at me like he was living out some long-repressed rape fantasy. His was the long, avenging sword of a cock. Mine was the oozing wound of a cunt.
I reveled in being his victim. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him toward me, just as I had done previously in my imagination.
The sharp end of his prick gouged against something in the tender rear of my pussy and made me wince in pain. I loved it.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," I egged him on. "Fuck me harder. Harder!"
No matter how deeply he pronged me I wanted more. I wanted more and more and more of his big, hard cock.
"I love your prick," I gushed while he was fucking me to my depths. "It's so long and thick and stiff."
"Your cunt is so wet," he returned the compliment. "I wish my wife's was this tight." Immediately the thought flashed through my mind that Mr. Brown's was another marriage that could use some improvement in the bedroom. Curiously, I found myself pleased to provide him a break in his hum-drum sexual routine.
"Your cock is so hard, I'll bet it's full of cum," I whispered moistly in his ear. "Why don't you show me how much it can come?"
Grinding away inside of me, he caught his cock-head in my deepest pussy sphincter and twisted for all he was worth. It was exactly the right move. Immediately we both started coming. Hot sperm exploded into my pussy tunnel as my loins convulsed. I hadn't had a satisfactory tuck for so long! felt like a virgin coming for the first time. Bubbling female cream bubbled with Brown's scalding jizz, turning my cunt into a quagmire of delight.
Before long there was so much of it that my box couldn't hold it all. A sticky mixture of cum and cream oozed from the comers of my cock-engorged cunt, bathing my inner thighs.
Then, all too soon, his spurting stopped. If I didn't do something quickly, before I knew it his dick would start to grow soft. Something within me wasn't about to let that happen.
Before his cock could wilt, I wrapped my fingers around its root and yanked it from my pussy. Hoisting my bottom just enough, I spread my cheeks and guided it toward the puckering rosebud of my asshole.
Fucking once after so long had just made me greedy for more. I was determined to have it in both holes now that I had the chance.
"Fuck me in the ass!" I implored as I helped him work the head of his prick into my anus. "Fuck me in the ass as hard as you fucked me in the cunt."
He was only too glad to. Presented with the tight suction of my gooey shit-pit, Brown was so invigorated that he didn't need to take the usual time to reload his phallic pistol.
Incredibly, he was even better in my ass than he'd been in my cunt. Maybe that's because my asshole was even tighter than my pussy. And almost as wet.
I stopped telling him what to do-how hard and deeply I wanted him to fuck me. He was doing okay on his own, and, besides, I was so excited with coming that I was no longer able to speak coherently.
I could feel his cock-head bruising against the wall of my colon. Hot shit gurgled in my bowels, massing like sperm in a man's balls. It was a delicious feeling.
I bore down, tightening my rectal muscles like a noose around his runaway cock. The sensation of his foreskin rubbing back and forth in the tight sleeve of my anus was excruciating. I was coming in my ass as intensely as I had come in my pussy.
Even though he had ejaculated only moments before, it was only a matter of seconds before he blew again. My asshole had turned his prick into the tireless sperm-shooting tool of a teenage boy.
Like a breaking dam, his cock suddenly flooded my insides with cum. Jizz was everywhere, drowning the shit in my bowels. The sensation was fantastic.
When there was too much for my ass to hold, it came spurting out. Cum sprayed from my anus, drenching the insides of my cheeks and moistening Brown's groin. He slid against me in the slippery final stages of ass-fucking.
I came and came and came, feeling confident of my future in the job market.
CHAPTER THREE
My first referral was to an office where the boss' secretary had gotten pregnant. I smelled trouble ahead when another employee told me during the first coffee break of the day that the person who had knocked her up was the boss himself.
"Gloria's down in Puerto Rico getting an abortion," this woman told me, "and the boss is scared shitless."
"What of?" I asked. "Abortions are legal nowadays, and certainly there's nothing so unusual about a boss having an affair with his secretary."
"Maybe not in the outside world," she laughed.
"But in this company, office sex is a definite no-no. The chairman of the board is an old battle-axe with eight kids and a milk toast husband-who inherited the whole works from her father. You can be sure that old J.P. Howard is going to be minding his P's and Q's from now on, and is going to make anybody who works for him toe the line in the bargain."
It was all I could do to hide my sudden apprehension in a cup of Instant Sanka as she told me this. Any boss that made me toe the line was going to quickly find out that I couldn't type a letter or take down a word of dictation.
Somehow I managed to fake my way through the rest of the first day. As a matter-of-fact, J.P. Howard was very pleased with my efficiency. How was he to know that the dictation I was supposedly taking down was coming out on the steno pad as a lot of meaningless scribbles. If I ever tried to type a letter from my garbled notes, the result would look like a berserk chimpanzee had attacked the typewriter.
That night at home, while waiting for Bill to finally come home from his office, I plotted my strategy. If I was going to get referred to any further jobs, I knew it was extremely important to get a good recommendation from my first boss. And, of course, there was no possibility of doing that if I was in any way called upon to impersonate a secretary.
Before I had learned of J.P. Howard's special case, I'd planned to get around my lack of office skills by staying out of his way. And, if that didn't work, by flirting with him so he wouldn't notice I wasn't doing anything at my desk but occupying a chair.
Trying to think of the solution, I paced my bedroom, smoking one cigarette after another. Finally, dizzy from my circular route around the room, I sat down on the chair in front of my vanity table.
Deep in thought, I didn't notice that I was sitting in front of the mirror until I found myself looking at myself. The mirror was like a catalyst. Suddenly I had an idea.
Getting up, I backed away until I could see the reflection of my entire body. Slowly, purposefully, I peeled away my nightgown. Gradually the soft pink of my body came into view.
My tits were exposed. They throbbed noticeably as they hung firmly from my chest. The nipples were as red as rosebuds. Even in the mirror I could see how erect they were.
The nightgown slid down my trunk. My belly slipped into view. My tummy was hard and fiat. The velvety, rippling abdominal muscles stretched my navel into a vertical slit.
Soft, wispy hair curled sparsely down from my belly-button. Then, as I lowered my nightgown inch by inch down my hips the hair became more profuse.
Finally it was bristling in a tawny triangle. My cunt was in view.
I dropped the nightgown to the floor and stepped out of it. I was completely naked. I couldn't take my eyes off myself in the mirror.
The light glistened off my dewy pink pussy lips as they oozed out of my slit. I had a beautiful body, and an even more beautiful cunt.
Long legs. Firm, high breasts. Long, stiff nipples.
A fiat tummy.
A hairy crotch.
A wet pussy.
Long, lissome legs ... always tanned.
"I'll have no trouble with J.P. Howard," I said to myself confidently just as I heard the front door open.
I instinctively ran over and turned off the light the second I realized Bill was home. For some reason I didn't want to deal with him tonight. My head was swimming with ideas for tomorrow and I didn't want him to distract me. By the time he thought of looking for me in the bedroom, I was under the covers, pretending to be asleep.
The next morning I was loaded for bear. My ammunition was sliding nakedly under my sheer dress. To even the most casual observer it would seem as though I were wearing my body outside of my dress today.
Unfortunately, J.P. Howard made the most casual observer seem like a sex maniac. The guy might as well have been wearing blinders. It was obvious that he was as nervous in a room with an attractive young woman as anybody else would have been in a, bathtub full of piranhas.
When I was walking, I wiggled my ass under my thin dress. And when I was sitting, I wiggled my tits.
My hem rode up and down like a yo-yo. Once or twice I even gave him a brief shot of bare beaver.
He looked everywhere but at me. I started to think that I could lie down on the floor and open my crotch all the way to my ears and he still wouldn't notice. This guy had turned himself off like a valve.
Meanwhile, despite all his window and clock-gazing, and desk rattling, he was getting nearer and nearer the point where he expected me to exhibit some secretarial skills.
The way things were going I had to think of something quickly.
"Would you like to take a letter now, Mrs. Smith?" he finally said, propping his feet up on the desk like a big shot.
"No," I said.
His eyebrows practically shot up to his scalp. "I beg your pardon," he said after an incredulous pause.
"No," I repeated. "No, I wouldn't like to take a letter."
"Then what would you like to do, Mrs. Smith?" he asked sarcastically.
"I'd like to suck your cock."
"Wha ... what?...."
"I'd like to suck your cock," I repeated. "I can see it under your pants the way you have your legs propped up on the desk. It seems like a big one."
He looked like he was having a stroke. If I hadn't known I was causing his apoplexy I'd have immediately called the poor man an ambulance.
While he was still fumbling for his senses, I got up out of my chair and started unbuttoning my dress. Because I was wearing nothing underneath it, I was completely nude within seconds.
"Now," I said as I walked nakedly toward him, "let's get down to the real business of his office and see who's boss."
He gulped like a sick canary as I leaned down over his fly, dangling my pulsing tits in his face. While I was working below with his zipper, I moved my nipples toward his mouth, teasing him with their succulence.
The zipper came down with a screech. His cock was ticking like a time-bomb inside. It was big and hard.
His stiff prick lurched out of his pants like an uncoiling spring. Abruptly I had over nine inches of male rock-hardness in my clutching grip. The head was a beauty, thick, purple and throbbing.
"So you got your secretary pregnant," I said to him as I stroked his tool. "That wouldn't have happened if you'd fucked her in the mouth instead of the cunt."
While he gulped with astonishment, I slid my lips over his cock-head and sucked wetly down. Right away I had five inches of him in my suctioning mouth.
As I sucked his prick, I threw my leg over his lap and sat on him. I could feel my wet pussy oozing against his vest. His nose must have been wrinkling from its powerful female scent.
He had a sweet-tasting prick. And a hard one. It was easy to see why his secretary had been unable to resist it.
Inch after inch of pulsing cock passed through my lips until I had swallowed it all. I felt like the character in the television commercial who can't believe she ate the whole thing.
My lips nuzzled against his balls. They were exceptionally hairy. They pulsated from the manufacture of sperm inside.
Soon that sperm would be gushing out of the end of Howard's prick. It would be mine. One way or another I would have it inside me. It would be filling me up to the brim of some hole, and then leaking out.
But before that happened I wanted a little more pussy stimulation than I was getting from the buttons on Howard's vest. Burying my face in his crotch for balance, I worked the rear of my body up toward his face. When I heard his gasp, I knew my pussy was spread wide-open in his face.
There's no man alive who can resist the allure of a split beaver. Especially when it isn't even an inch from his face. Even a hard-core queer would swear off cocks if some sexy woman took the time to drop her drawers and shove her juicy twat in his face.
Howard's tongue guided its way through my pussy lips as though that was the sole reason Nature had put it in his mouth in the first place. Before I knew it the formerly uptight business executive was up to his chin in my greasy cunt, tongue-fucking me to the hilt.
His cum was easily drawn from his balls by my expertly sucking mouth. I could feel it racing up through his prick after less than a dozen suctioning strokes.
Just as he came I grabbed his balls, squeezing for that last extra surge of pressure. Jizz shot into my throat in molten bullets. Immediately my belly was coated with it.
At the same time my pussy overflowed in his face. My cunt had been brimming with juice all along, but now it was erupting. My box was like a volcano, spewing out the molten lava of my female cum.
I pulled his cock out of my mouth and slid down with my tits onto it. The feel of his velvety sperm rubbing against my tingling nipples was luxurious.
Catching his still-hard prick between my tits I began jerking it off. It seemed a shame to let such a rigid cock go limp when I was still as-horny as hell. Maybe a little tit-fucking would keep it stiff.
The spongy flesh of my breasts created the perfect glove for his hard-on. It must have been like jacking off with one of his mother's silk stockings wrapped around his hand when he was a kid.
I knew he liked it, and that made me feel good. My cunt was out-of his face and I could hear him moan with pleasure.
Slowly, luxuriously I beat him off with my tits. Tighter and tighter I compressed them. They squeezed so hard around his shaft that it was invisible in the trap of their swelling meat. His cock-head protruded from the middle of my breasts like a third nipple.
His pelvis lurched and he was getting ready to come again. I put my head just inches from the end of his prick so he would shoot all over my face. I wanted to feel that hot spunk splattering against my skin.
The mouth at the tip of his dick suddenly opened as if to scream. But instead of a miniature cry coming out, a torrent of scalding cream poured ' forth. It was a gorgeous sight.
By the time his prick had stopped spurting for the second time, my face was dripping with sweet cum. It seemed like it was melting.
Out of my one eye that wasn't stuck closed with jism, I took a good look at Howard's cock. The slit at the end was gurgling with a final residue of semen. It was a delicious sight that only made me want more.
I slid all the way down his body now. Sitting straddled on his lap, I began greasing his cock with its own slime, lubricating it for the final plunge I had in mind.
I knew Howard was worried about getting secretaries pregnant, and the last thing I wanted to do was give him performance anxiety. It was going to be difficult enough coaxing a third wad out of his prick, without further complicating the situation.
"My ass, Mr. Howard," I set things straight. "Are you ready to fuck me in my tight little asshole?"
There were no ovaries up there. Just tight muscles. Tight, strong muscles that could wring his prick like a wet washrag.
He was game to try. His prick immediately regained whatever stiffness it had lost the second I mentioned my ass. His cock-nerves could sense the imminent ass-fucking experience of pain and pleasure.
Clutching his dick in my hand, I raised my haunches and moved forward just enough to seem to balance myself on it. Then, as I felt the head press against the tiny petals of my anus, I knew I was ready to take the big plunge.
His cock was slick from its own cum. Sliding down on it was like a fireman sliding down a pole. One instant its head was just nudging against my bunghole, and the next instant it was several inches inside me. Wiggling my ass, I drew him within my shit-hole until I was sitting on his balls.
It was a magnificent feeling as he whammed away inside me. I had been coming steadily, but with his cock in my ass my orgasm took on a new dimension. There's nothing for a woman like coming in the ass, and now I was doing it like mad. My bowels expanded and contracted the same way my womb does when a prick is fucking my cunt.
"Oh, God," I gasped, "keep fucking! Keep fucking me as hard as you can! I can't get enough of your big, hard cock in my ass!"
And he couldn't seem to get it in far enough to suit himself either. My loins quivered in wonder at his unending ability to seemingly manufacture extra inches of his jackhammering tool to drill up my ass. If he didn't come soon, my body would fly apart first.
"Come in me, come in me!" I begged. "Fill my ass with your hot cum!"
My wish was his command. Sperm jetted into my bowels. I would be shitting it for days.
When we were finally finished and dressed, only a very simple conversation passed between us.
"Uh, Mrs. Smith...." he said.
"Yes, Mr. Howard?" I answered.
"Why don't you take the rest of the day off, we've done enough, uh, work for one day."
"Oh, really?" I replied quizzically while I buttoned the front of my dress, giving him a last little flash of tit.
"Uh, yes...." he gulped self-consciously. "Go home, take a rest, and report back here at the same time tomorrow morning."
"Is there anything special you'd like me to be prepared for then?" I asked coyly.
"Uh ... well...."
"Yes, Mr. Howard?"
"We'll, uh, just pick up where we left off, I guess," he said anxiously. "That is, if you think you're up to, uh, the demands of this office, Mrs. Smith."
"Check and double check, boss," I cracked with a wink, and then waved toodle-oo and left the office to go home and take a long dreamy bath.
CHAPTER FOUR
Back at the employment agency they were really impressed with the rave recommendation I got from J.P. Howard. When his regular secretary got back from her abortion, they, lost no time in placing me at another temporary job.
After J.P. I expected an easier time of it. I figured there could only be so many bosses I'd run into who'd just sent their secretary out of town to get an abortion. I assumed I'd had my quota of trouble for a while, and anticipated smooth-sailing as I walked into my new office.
How was I to know that what was waiting for me on the other side of the waiting room was going to make my first job seem strictly routine?
I couldn't have guessed it as I sat there waiting for the receptionist to get off the phone I could tell her who I was and why I was there. It looked just like any other place of business. Pretty soon, I assumed, the receptionist would hang up, find out I was the fill-in secretary, and call her boss. Then a tall, professional-looking man in a conservatively cut suit would come out to greet me and usher me into his inner office. I would be off to the races.
But, as it turned out, his race would be run on a horse of a different color.
My new boss came out, and was tall, all right. Wearing a conservatively tailored suit, too. Blue serge with pin-stripes.
The only catch was that the suit came with a skirt rather than a pair of trousers. My new boss was a woman.
"Hello," she said in a clipped voice, extending her right hand like a man. "My name is Frances Green. You'll be working for me during your time here," Miss....Miss...."
"Mrs. Smith," I introduced myself. "Mrs. Sheila Smith."
"Oh, I see. You're married," she said with a look of mild surprise. "Well, you call me Miss Green. Now, if you'll follow me into my office, I'll show you what I need to have you do. I'm afraid we have a lot of work to do, Mrs. Smith. I hope you're prepared to take a lot of short-hand."
I had to suppress a gulp before she turned to lead me to her office. A chicken with ink smeared all over its talons could take more coherent short-hand than I could.
Once inside the office, I sat down in the furthest chair I could find, hoping a distance between us would deter Miss Green from immediately discovering my ineptitude. However, once she was seated I could see that she was dissatisfied with the arrangement. She made a face and gestured toward me impatiently.
"Come here, please, Mrs. Smith, and sit in this chair by my desk," she ordered rather than suggested. "I need to see to whom I'm speaking while I'm dictating or I lose track of what I'm saying. That's why I have to talk into a girl instead of a machine."
Reluctantly, I got up and moved to the chair by her desk. When I sat down again I noticed my position to the side of Miss Green put us in full sight of one another. Seated in a swivel-chair, her long skirt had ridden up enough to give me a better view of her legs than I had had when she'd been standing.
Her legs were long and slender. They were so obviously the legs of an attractive woman, that I looked again toward Miss Green's face, searching it to see if I had misjudged her when I had earlier categorized her as mannish.
It was true that she did everything she could to herself to make it seem as though she were exactly the same as any male business executive. However, the more I looked at her, the more I realized that, underneath it all, Miss Green appeared to be a beautiful woman.
Then something inside me made me abruptly avert my admiring gaze. I had suddenly realized that Miss Green could see all of me sitting in a chair as I could see all of her.
The thought hit me that she could be inspecting my body the same way I had been inspecting hers. If she had been a man, of course, I would have been pleased. However, with the possibility of another woman checking me out, I felt embarrassed.
"Mrs. Smith," Miss Green said, "for whatever reason are you blushing?"
"I ... I ... don't know...." I stammered.
"Is it because I turned out to be a woman instead of the male executive you anticipated?" she asked.
"Well, uh, frankly yes," I steeled myself enough to answer. I had surprised myself with my honesty.
"Then you're surprised to find such long, shapely legs on an executive, is that it, Mrs. Smith?"
Dumbly, I nodded my head.
"Do you like them?" she asked pointedly. "Do you like the idea of attractive legs on your boss, Mrs. Smith?"
To emphasize her point, she leaned toward me. As she did so, her skirt rode up to mid-thigh. The more I saw of her legs, the more hopelessly my gaze was riveted to them.
"Do you like them, Mrs. Smith?" she repeated, raising her voice a penetrating decibel.
"Indeed I do," I blurted, utterly astonishing myself with my candor. "Indeed I do."
"I assumed as much when I just saw you licking your lips, Mrs. Smith," Miss Green said coolly. "Would you like to see more?"
"Very much," I honestly admitted.
"Then you shall," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I like to be as open as possible with my employees."
She got up from her chair. In a no-nonsense fashion she began removing her skirt. Before I knew it she was standing before me in her slip.
Then the slip was pulled down her hips. She slid it down her legs, stepping out of it as it dropped to the floor.
As ultra-feminine as the slip had been, it could just as well have been a jock-strap compared to the clinging garment I stared at now.
Her panties were so sheer they might as well have not been there. Their cut was adhesively perfect, accentuating every dimension of her groin like a second skin. Panties like these were only available in the finest women's stores.
"Can you tell if my panties are wet?" she asked coyly, letting her essential femininity creep into her voice for the first time.
"No ... no...." I gulped. "They're too sheer. It looks almost like you're not wearing anything."
"Well, they are, my dear," she said. "They're sopping wet."
Now I noticed. The light was glistening from her panty-crotch. It glinted off her thighs where the pussy juice had started to seep down.
"Of course, I know your panties aren't wet, Mrs. Smith," she said while I ogled her dripping crotch.
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"Because you're not wearing any," she said as a big smile swept across her face for the first time. "I could see your beaver flashing the first time you sat down. Why do you think I had you move across the room?"
I was stunned. This was the last thing in the world I had expected to happen. I wasn't sure just what to do next.
"Remove your clothing, Mrs. Smith," Miss Green directed. "I want to see all of your body without having to peek."
It was an easy assignment. As usual when I went out on a part-time job I was wearing only my dress with nothing underneath except stockings.
When my dress crumpled to the floor, I was nude. Miss Green's eyes were as accurate an index to the charms of my naked body as my vanity mirror at home. They bugged out of her head.
With Miss Green transfixed by my bare body, I felt a lot of the confidence I'd lost through shock start to return. If all secretaries were required to strip I was sure that I would be considered one of the best around. My alluring body was my typing and short-hand.
"Do you like my body?" I asked boldly.
"Very much," she returned my compliment of a few moments before. Her red tongue passed wetly over her thin lips.
"My cunt is dripping, too," I informed her. "It's soaking wet."
"Yes," she smacked her lips, "I can certainly see."
While she savored my pussy, Miss Green's hands attended to the removal of the rest of her clothing. First her jacket came off, and then her blouse. Her tits swelled in her tight bra.
The bra was unsnapped from the rear and floating to the floor. Miss Green's tits sprang from her chest. They were high and tight and firm. The big red nipples looked like strawberries.
Now only the dripping panties remained to be removed. She slipped her fingers under the waistband and slowly rolled them down. She was teasing me-tantalizing me with the impending sight of her wet pussy.
At last her pubic bush started to show. It was jet black and dense. Hair curled across her crotch in a dark explosion.
When her panties were down to the intersection of her thighs, I could hear the crotch peeling from her cunt. It sounded like a big band-aid coming off of a scab.
Juice sprayed from between her legs as the panties pulled free of her snatch. Falling to the floor, they landed with a damp plop. Miss Green stepped nakedly from them.
She put her hands on her hips and parted her legs. Her labia dangled from her cunt, contrasting strikingly in their pinkness with her inky pussy hair. From between them, thick globules of female goo dripped to the floor.
With the sound of her squishing box filling the room, Miss Green came toward me. "Touch me," she said evenly, apparently with no doubt that I would do as she said. "Touch my tits. Touch my cunt."
I did as I was told. Eagerly.
Placing the palm of one hand like a suction cup against her breasts, I squeezed them together, rubbing both nipples at once. Her nipples were hard and erect. They were like playing with a pair of miniature cocks.
I threw my other arm over her back and across her ass so I could reach between her cheeks and get at her pussy. My fingers snaked into the creaming slit of her cunt.
Now she returned the favor. One of her hands massaged my tits, while the other found my dripping gash. Her probing fingertips knew exactly where to touch. Almost immediately I was experiencing tiny orgasmic flutters.
"Quickly, onto my desk," Miss Green whispered urgently in my ear. "I want to make love to you. I want to feel you on top of me. I want to feel your tongue in my pussy while I eat yours."
Breaking loose from me, she went first. Climbing up on top of the desk, Miss Green spread-eagled herself. Her hairy cunt was wide-open. I was drawn to it as if by a powerful magnet.
"Now, now," she urged, when I was up on the desk with her, "let's do it. Let's sixty-nine. I can't wait to taste your cunt."
I hurriedly maneuvered so that I was on top of her in the 69 position. My haunches straddled her so that my dripping gash was right in her face.
"Go down on me at both ends," Miss Green said excitedly. "Suck me, while I suck you. Eat my pussy, while I eat yours."
I instantly complied. While I sent my cunt plopping juicily against her mouth, I hurtled my face into the steaming crack of her open cunt.
Her tongue was a marvel. It flicked in and out of my spasming pussy at a fantastic rate, seeming more like a piston than a part of the body.
As she reamed out my cunt with thrusts that were more and more daring, it felt as satisfying as any man's cock inside me. She was expertly hitting all the right places, knowing them in advance because she was a woman, too. My miniature orgasms were turning into bigger ones by now.
The orgasmic intensity beginning to dominate my body forced me to instinctively answer her pussy-thrusts with a tongue-fucking of my own. I stabbed at least three solid inches within her fuck-hole. Immediately I felt the dewy walls of her cunt tenderly clasp me.
The office was eerily quiet except for the repeated slurps of our cunt-lapping. Each of our mouths was lathering up a froth inside the pussy pressing against its lips that was thicker than whipped cream. And tastier.
Miss Green's cunt tasted unbelievably sweet and pure as I licked away at it. I was hopeful that she was finding my honey-pot as delicious as I was finding hers.
Her clit rubbed insistently against my teeth and gums, competing with her pussy lips for attention. Finally I gave in to the nubbin of spiked meat and began lapping it exclusively.
Down below, Miss Green's face was virtually all the way into my sucking gash. Her nose was firmly jammed in my cunt, while her lips and teeth aggressively nibbled inside the entrance to my fuck-canal. Her aggressive pussy-eating was turning the tissues of my snatch into an inflamed mass of raw nerve endings.
I was coming once every few seconds now.' Each climax built on top of the other. They were getting stronger and stronger.
Ultimately, my naked body was racked by frenzy. While my mouth and cunt were being stimulated from the outside, the rest of me was burned by my inner fires.
Apparently Miss Green could sense the orgasms that were rapidly developing into a barrage against my senses. For just when I was on the verge of exploding, she removed her mouth from my cunt and cooled me off.
"Don't come too much, yet," she said. "I have further plans."
"Please, please...." I begged. "Don't leave me dangling like this. I've got to come or I'll die. I've got to feel that sweet release."
"You will, you will, my dear," she chuckled. "Like you have never before in your sweet, young life."
"Stop teasing me," I whimpered. "I need to come. Badly! Do whatever you're going to do. Please!"
"I want to stick it in you before we stop," she said as she slid out from under me. "Roll over on your back and spread your legs."
While I was getting into the classic screwing position, wondering how she was going to fuck me, Miss Green jumped off the desk and started rummaging through her drawers. Finally she emerged with something wriggling in her hands that looked like a snake.
"A two-way dildo," she explained, holding it up for my inspection. "I stick it into your cunt while it goes into mine. We fuck each other's pussies at the same time."
Crawling back up on the desk, she began stuffing one end of the rubber cock up her horny cunt. Her pussy lips bent wetly as it went in. Moaning all the while with the pleasure of engorgement, Miss Green lodged six inches of dildo inside "her fuck-hole.
"Here," she said, sitting on top of me and handing me the free end. "Stick this end up your pussy."
Opening my legs, I grabbed for the remaining length of latex cock. I was possessed by an unquenchable, urge to be joined to this other woman, pussy to pussy, by a mutual prick.
We were on the verge of having the best of both possible worlds. With the dildo in each of our cunts, we would fuck and be fucked at the same time. I liked the idea of giving and taking at once.
Instantly I felt the neck of the dildo slide inside my pussy. My cunt was like a vacuum cleaner, sucking up the phallic hardness like my end of the dildo was a piece of lint on the carpet.
I looked down at my twat. It was filled with a half a foot of latex prick. Then I looked across to Miss Green's pussy, equally stuffed with round rubber meat.
"Wiggle your ass,' Miss Green instructed me in the use of this daring device. "Make it work like a live prick inside my cunt."
I instinctively did as she told me. Moving my hips in a slow circular motion, I sent the long dildo twisting up her snatch like a roto rooter. The way she sighed, twisted and moaned you would have thought she had the world's biggest, liveliest cock up her pussy.
Miss Green's trembling became spasms as a result of the surging force up her cunt. As she shook, her vibrations coursed back through the penile bond connecting us. Suddenly I felt the two-way prick dancing with life inside my pussy, too.
Now we were both twitching our asses with delight. Grinding away at each other, we both took everything the other had to give. Fucking and being fucked simultaneously was the biggest sex-thrill of my life.
The dildo stabbed further and further into each of our cunts until our crotches were pressed firmly together. The strands of our pussy hair intertwined as the wet lips of our pussies touched. While we fucked each other we shared a genital kiss.
We each put our hands on the other's waist and pulled even closer. Our bellies and hips were forced together, as though our naked bodies were Becoming as one.
Her ample tits swamped my smaller ones, burying my boobs in an avalanche of warm flesh. My sharp nipples stabbed erectly into the underside of her jugs.
We soul-kissed, our mouths still reeking of each other's cunts. Our tongues stabbed pungently down one another's throats.
Down below, the mouths of our pussies sealed each other like gaskets. They fused together as we fucked, reaming each other out with-a foot and a half of cock-like rubber between us.
I had been coming all along, of course, but now one whale of an orgasm surfaced within me. Suddenly I found my senses capsized.
All of my sensations, all of my feelings., and all of my emotions became centered in my throbbing, juicing cunt. I was coming with another woman more than I had ever come with any man, . including my husband, Bill.
I squeezed my pussy muscles like a vise around the dildo, knowing my climactic energy would immediately surge into Miss Green's loins. Her pelvis buckled back in appreciation, the thrust of her cunt telling me that she had gotten my orgasmic message.
As I creamed and convulsed, I pantingly watched my female lover enjoying the same experience. Her eyes were rolling in her head like a slot-machine. Her tongue was hanging out as she pulled away from our kiss and fought for air.
Tilting her hips, she lifted her cunt just enough so that our turgid clits began rubbing together. While we clit-fucked each other the seal of our pussy lips was broken and pussy juice foamed in a thick lather at our crotches.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" she cried. "I'm coming one last time! Hold me, let me come in your arms!"
Our tits crashed together again, and then we collapsed and shuddered in each other's embrace. We drove our cunt-mounds together, gouging the thick hunk of latex joining us against the mouths of our wombs. Our final climaxes were completely shared.
As we kissed once more, orgasmic power flowed through our mouth-fucking tongues. The same energy coursed through our pressing tits and stabbing nipples. It surged between our nearly welded cunts.
We trembled convulsively in each other's grasp. The shared coming had reduced us to quivering wrecks, totally dependent on each other to remain upright.
We were slaves to coming. Total slaves to the agonizingly perfect domination of our bodies by our erotic reflexes.
Finally we were through coming and stopped fucking, running down as though we were machines whose springs had unwound. As we fell away from each other, my legs splayed and I dropped my hand to my crotch. My fingers dangled against my oozing cunt, drenching themselves with stickiness.
After such glorious lovemaking, I couldn't resist a taste of my own love-dripping pussy. Drawing my hand to my mouth, I sucked my fingers dry. The sticky goop of my own twat was intoxicating, the perfect dessert after a divine fuck.
CHAPTER FIVE
After several weeks of part-time work, I had really started to establish some kind of life for myself outside of the house. All my bosses-of either sex--liked me, and invariably forwarded excellent references after my stint with them was completed. Of course I still couldn't operate a typewriter any better than I could an atom-smasher, but I'd learned there were plenty of ways to compensate in the business world.
Unfortunately, if my life away from home was thriving, my life as devoted wife and homemaker was slipping even further down the tubes. I really needed the outside stimulation, because I wasn't getting anything from my husband at home.
Bill was busier than ever. Whenever we did see each other he was either on his way to somewhere else, or dead-tired. He kept excusing himself by telling me that he was doing it all for us, but my ears were increasingly deaf to his rationale.
Even though I had plenty to do on the outside now, I still resented the way Bill's job kept our marriage from being what it really should be. The more I thought about it, the angrier it made me.
One night I got so angry that I would have really told him off had he been there. But he wasn't, as usual, so I just sat there and stewed in my own juices.
Finally, the only way I could get my mind off my frustration was to think about my outside life. Only in my . part-time jobs did I find the satisfaction and release a. woman would normally expect from her husband.
Tomorrow, I made up my mind, I would try and do something extraordinary. I'd have the employment agency refer me to a place where it was guaranteed I'd get my mind off that maddening husband of mine.
"Are you sure you want this, Mrs. Smith?" Mr. Brown asked me the next day after I'd told him what kind of assignment I wanted next.
"Definitely," I assured him. "I just feel I need a break from those stuffy old business offices for a while."
"Well, you have such good references, Mrs. Smith, I don't see how I can argue with you. Let me look through my file and see if I can come up with anything at all out of the ordinary."
He flipped through his circular file. He paused during the G's, then went on. But during the M's, he reversed the motion of his fingers and returned to the G's.
"Do you have something?" I asked, anxious to begin a new experience in the job world.
He laughed and shook his head, "Naw," he sighed, "there's no way I could send you there ... it's just too far out."
"Tell me what it is, and I'll decide," I told Brown. "You get twenty-five percent of my salary no matter who the employer is, so let me be the judge of what's appropriate."
"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you," he laughed.
"Yes?"
"It's a garage."
"Far out," I responded eagerly.
"I was afraid you'd like it," he admitted. "Why don't you just forget about all these silly temporary positions, and come to work here at the agency as my assistant, Sheila."
Old Brown and I had gotten to be pretty good pals. Over the weeks I hadn't let him forget my wet pussy during my frequent visits to the agency-and I hadn't allowed myself to forget his stiff cock. There'd been plenty of sucking and fucking between jobs, as well as on them.
"I just can't do that now, Jim," I called him by his first name. "It's nice of you to offer, but I'm not ready to be as tied down outside the house as I've been on the inside."
"Oh," he said knowingly, for we had shared a few secrets, "that husband of yours is still bugging you, huh? Well, I guarantee you I'm not like him. I-"
"You forget, Jim," I interrupted, "you've already clued me in on how you get along with your spouse. Thanks for your offer, Jim, but, no thanks. I don't want to be under another man's thumb just yet. Now stop trying to change my mind and tell me about this garage."
"It's an all-night place over on the north side of town," he said sheepishly. "Sonny's Garage, it's called."
Eagerly, I scribbled down the address. "What do they need me for?" I looked up and asked when I'd finished writing.
"It says here that they're books are in a mess," Jim said. "Apparently none of those grease-monkeys over there has the sense to balance a set of figures."
"I'll have them straightened out in no time," I winked.
"I'm sure you will," Jim responded sardonically.
"Well, I'm on my way," I said perkily. "Call them and tell them I'm coming."
"You're not really going, are you?" he said as I ' started toward the door.
"Why not?"
"The north side is the worst part of town. Anything could happen to you over there."
"That's the general idea, Jim," I called over my shoulder, and left.
As it turned out, though, Jim Brown certainly hadn't been exaggerating. I had never been to the north side of town before, because if I had I never would have forgotten it. And in my suburban middle-class life I had never seen anything like this.
The whole area seemed like a bombing target. Block after block was filled with crumbling buildings, more than half of them gutted by fire. It looked like war-tom Europe.
The only people on the street were junkies. They were swarming all over the place like maggots.
Sonny's Garage was right in the middle of all this. The rent must have been cheap.
"Hello," I said to this grease-covered wrench-jockey outside the garage, "I'm looking for Sonny."
"No shit?" the guy answered, popping his gum after he finished speaking.
"I suppose you wonder why I want him," I said,.,, realizing how odd my presence must seem in such a grubby place.
"You might say that," the guy drawled, running his .fingers through his greasy black hair.
"Well, it's not about a car, if that's what you're thinking," I sort of rambled off the track, suddenly nervous in this mechanic's presence.
"I wouldn't think so, lady," he said smugly.
"Oh? Why not?"
" 'Cause 'alf the cars in this here garage are stolen," he informed me, a sardonic smile tilting the bottom half of his face slightly upward.
"How do you know I'm not an undercover policewoman?" I asked, my voice brimming with curiosity in the aftermath of his revelation.
"How do you know I don't eat undercover policewomen for lunch?" he answered back insinuatingly.
"You're Sonny, aren't you?" I finally figured it out.
"And you're the broad the employment agency sent over to balance my books," he one-upped me.
"Right," I laughed, kind of rattled by his unexpected perceptiveness.
Suddenly my nervous laughter strangled in my throat. "Why aren't you wearing any underwear?" he asked boldly, moving his eyes up and down my body to emphasize the question.
"It ... it's hot ... hot in the city," I stammered. "My body, uh, gets too hot under my dress when I wear underwear during the summer."
"I'll bet your body gets hot," he leered. "Why don't you come on in and meet the boys?"
The boys turned out to be Red, Tom and Pete. Dressed in greasy overalls with long dark hair and smudged faces, they all looked just like Sonny, "This here is Mrs. Smith," Sonny introduced me to them. "She's the one they sent over here to balance the books."
"Is that why she ain't wearin' no underwear?" Red guffawed. The others broke up laughing along with him.
Was it really so obvious?
I guess so. Tom and Pete were looking directly at my chest. They were ogling my tits as though there were no dress in the way of them. When I sneaked a peek down and saw my nipples straining erectly through the fabric, I realized the extent of the attraction.
Sonny went around in back of me and admired my ass. "Look at the way her cheeks come together, Red," he called to his partner. "You can see the line right down the middle of her dress."
"Wow," Red rasped gutturally, "she really fills that thing out, don't she?"
"Baby," Sonny came around and said to me, "are you sure you really wanna balance our books today?"
"What else did you have in mind?" I answered gamely.
"Oh," he said casually, picking a little grease from under his fingernail, "what I had in mind was a little gang-bang. You know, a cozy little thing. Just the five of us. Us four guys fucking you all at once. Hard-ons in every hole. Like that."
"You mean, sort of like a super lube-job," I replied without batting an eye.
I was the one who was supposed to have been taken by shock. However my calm reception of Sonny's proposal, followed by my snappy comeback, had almost floored the four of them.
Seizing the role of aggressor, I walked over to Red, and put my hands at the neck of his overalls. When he gulped, I pulled downward, screeching his zipper all the way to his crotch.
His cock stood out of an orange nest of pubic hair almost a foot. Heavy blue veins pulsed just beneath the alabaster shaft. At the end, the head of his prick was as inflamed as his hair.
"My, my," I said facetiously. "It seems old Red here isn't wearing any underwear today, either. Maybe it's a fad that's catching on. What about the rest of you boys-are you in style?"
I didn't wait for them to let me know on their own. Going around the room, I stopped before each one of them and yanked down the zipper of his overalls.
There wasn't a pair of jockey shorts in the bunch.
Their pricks were all huge. They were also the only parts of their bodies that weren't covered with' grease.
Each one of their cocks was standing out straight. But I wanted to see more. I wanted to see them twitch.
My dress came off like it had never belonged on my body in the first place. Four pairs of eyes filled with the image of my naked body. A quartet of mouths watered, at the sight of my tits and cunt.
Four brains sent the message to four crotches that there was a bitch in heat standing naked before them.
Their cocks did more than just twitch. They lurched into the air, palpitating with throbbing desire. Each of them had an anticipatory glob of semen gracing its tip.
I went around the room and licked the pearl of cum from each. The small taste of their jizz was intoxicating. And like any drunk, all I wanted was more.
Leaving their semicircle I walked over to an empty lube-rack and lay down where the tires of the car usually go. I dropped my legs over the edges and spread them as far as they could go.
The mechanics remained frozen in their tracks, astounded by my behavior. The only thing about them that moved for several seconds was their throbbing cocks.
"Fuck me," I started my chant in a whisper. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me."
My voice got louder. The chant accelerated.
"Fuck me-fuck me-fuck me-fuck me...."
I would keep going until the heat of my message thawed them out.
"Fuck me-fuck - me-fuck me...."
Oh, God, how I wanted it. I hoped it didn't take them forever to respond. My cunt was oozing between my thighs.
Sonny was the first to come to his senses. I guess that was why he was the owner of the garage and the rest were just big-cocked flunkies. Stepping out of his fallen overalls, he followed his waving prick across the room and walked to where I was.
His cock was long and thick. The head was purple.-I'd already tasted it once when I'd lapped up that premature blob of jizz, and now I wanted to taste it some more.
"Fuck my mouth," I told him. "I'll give you a blow-job you'll never forget."
Straddling me over the bars of the lube-rack, Sonny moved in on top of my body. By the time he lowered his hairy crotch, he was practically sitting on my face.
I grabbed his cock and shoved it into my mouth. Its taste was exotic. The natural cock taste mingled with the muskiness of dried sweat to make it an exceedingly savory piece of meat.
At the same time I swallowed Sonny's prick, I licked his balls. Their surface was even more redolent of grimy sweat.
By the time my tongue snaked under his scrotum toward his asshole, the sweat was fresh and hot. While I chowed down to the root on his throbbing cock, I twirled my tongue inside the sweaty hole of his anus. The taste was gooey and delicious.
Finally my mouth became so filled with cock that no part of my mouth could do anything but suck it. My tongue withdrew from Sonny's sweet asshole and began working its way inside my mouth up and down the bottom of his prick.
His shaft got harder and harder in my mouth. The head of his dick plugged my throat like I was choking to death on a hunk of round steak.
Now I was ready for the next one. I dropped my hands to my tits, and beckoned with them. Pressed together in spongy softness, they must have resembled a fat exterior pussy.
Pete, led by his straining peter, came to the head of the class. Sliding up behind his partner on top of me, he sat on my tummy and slipped his prick between my compressed breasts. Immediately he was pumping back and forth, tit-fucking me with the full ten inches of his stiff cock.
The next part would be tricky. I Only had two holes to go, and I wanted them to be done just right. There could be no slip-ups in the spectacular way I wanted to get my rocks off today.
I couldn't help but briefly think that if my husband, Bill, could only see me now, he wouldn't be working late at the office any more. When you got right down to it, I guess letting four guys fuck me at once was part of my way of getting even for the way Bill had neglected me since we'd been married.
Suddenly all my rationalizing made me nervous.
I switched off my mind, and let my body take over. All at once, my brain was between my legs.
I pleaded with my open thighs for one of the two remaining grease-monkeys to come on over and stick it in one of my last two holes.
Tom came. He joined in behind Pete in the line of sitting men on top of me, and shoved his thick prick between my legs. Immediately the knotty head rubbed against my cunt.
Slowly, he started to work his prick inside me. He had to take his time because there was a lot of it.
Inch after inch of cock buried itself in my pussy until I couldn't have closed my legs if I'd wanted to. His dick impaled me as surely as any sword, bisecting my pelvis with Its deep thrust.
There was only one grease-monkey left now. Red. The one with the big white whale of a dong.
And there was only one hole left unoccupied in my body. My tight asshole.
How fitting that the biggest cock should be saved for the tightest hole.
Red knew what he had between his legs. Sonny may have been owner of the garage-but Red was the owner of the biggest cock.
He followed his member toward me as though his brains were in the head of his cock instead of his skull! God, what a beautiful cock he had. I couldn't wait to feel it in my tight shit-pit.
Then he surprised me. Instead of coming straight to my open ass, he made a stop over at a bench. Picking up an object that looked like a gun in a science-fiction movie, he squirted a big glob of brown grease into the palm of one of his hands.
Now he started walking toward the rest of us again. And, as he did so, he rubbed the slippery grease all over his cock.
He was lubricating his massive prick for the ultra-tight insertion into my narrow asshole.
Chivalry is not dead, I told myself.
There was no more room on top of my body, so Red had to kneel before my parted thighs. My bunghole must have been an enticing target for him,' because he lost no time wielding his greasy dick toward it.
Axle-grease turned out to be almost as groovy a lubricant as pussy juice. The instant its slime hit my anus, the inside of my shit-pit was as smooth as the fuck-canal of my snatch. Despite the constricted diameter of my rectum, his huge cock slid up my ass like it was born to be there.
Only when I could feel the last man's balls pressed against my flesh did I start to move. With Red's nuts Squishing against the bottom of my ass I finally had as much cock as I could handle.
The prick in my mouth surged almost to my stomach. Hairy balls scraped against my chin.
Between my tits, a pumping hard-on jabbed its head into my neck again and again. My sensitive tit-flesh tingled from the feel of a rubbing foreskin in the maw of its spongy compression.
My cunt was foaming. Convulsing and bubbling, it reacted to the prick engorging it like a snail who's just been doused with salt.
But my ass was best. You always forget just how supreme ass-fucking can be until you're in the middle of it.
Red was absolutely pronging me. His cock-head had shot through my rectal tunnel and was the magnet for a knot of gurgling shit in my colon.
I writhed like an epileptic during a seizure under my quartet of big-cocked grease-monkeys. The fact that I was impaled four ways just made it all the more agonizingly wonderful. Whichever way I went I was whipsawed beyond description.
If all my limbs had been bound with ropes and tied to rampaging horses, I couldn't have felt what was happening to me any more intensely. With four cocks in me, I was coming four hundred times more than I normally did with a single dork servicing my body.
The cascades of my coming poured through my body like Niagara Falls. Every muscle in my body-every nerve-every pore-was pressed into service in the process of obtaining my sensual release.
Of course my pussy muscles tightened around the cock engorging my twat. The sphincters closed like a noose.
I pressed my tits tighter and tighter.
My mouth sucked wildly.
And my asshole narrowed so tightly that Red couldn't have pulled out of there if he'd wanted to.
The pressure at all my fuck-points was tight. As tight as I could make it.
The kind of tight that can make any cock come.
And come they did. Every single one of them at the same time.
Suddenly I was swamped with an embarrassment of riches. Thick, sticky, liquid riches.
Rich cum.
It was gushing down my throat. Then when I had swallowed as much of it as I could, it slobbered out of my mouth and oozed from my nose.
My tits were covered with it. When Pete came he was on the down-stroke. That meant his jizz shot all over my nipples. I couldn't have planned it better myself.
Spunk shot all the way up into my womb from the cock spurting in my cunt. When jizz had filled both my uterus and my fuck-hole, it came spraying from the sides of my pussy lips. The cum was so hot it burned.
But the bottom hole was the best. Scalding semen ripped into my colon, mingling with the hot shit there until I couldn't tell them apart. It was like giving myself an enema with cum.
At last they were exhausted, and I let them rest. However, while their loins reinvigorated them selves, I kept right on coming. The limitations of the male anatomy weren't about to cramp my style.
When I felt they'd had enough time to rest, I started squirming my body. There's nothing like the wet holes of a wriggling woman to make men's prick stiff, even if they have just come all over the place.
When their dicks were thoroughly hard again, I resumed the calling of our little square dance.
"Okay, everybody," I cried, "it's time to change holes! And whoever fucks me in the ass, be sure and use some of that divine grease!"
CHAPTER SIX
"Listen, Sheila," Jim Brown said to me one afternoon as I got up off the floor after sucking his cock. "I need to ask a favor of you."
"Just name it, Jim," I said, feeling some of his cum dribble from my mouth as I talked.
"Believe me, I wouldn't ask you to do this, Sheila, but the agency is on the spot."
"Shoot," I said, wiping the last of his jizz from my face. It had been an exceptionally wet blow-job.
"Emerson School called," he said.
"You mean that exclusive private school over in the Brentwood district?" I asked.
"Yes, that's the one."
"What do they need that I can help out with?" I asked. "I had trouble passing dumb-bell English. I don't think they'd want me around any of their students."
"They need somebody to help out in the library," he said. "I wouldn't ask you to do it, but there's nobody else available."
"But, are you sure you want me, Jim?" I asked incredulously. "I'll louse up their whole system. The last book I had in my hands was 'Inside Linda Lovelace', and I got pussy juice all over the pages because I kept finger-fucking myself while I was reading it."
"So, they won't know you've screwed up their library until after you're gone," he said quickly. "By the time they notice it, you'll be long-gone and they may not even figure out who was responsible. Meanwhile, they'll be satisfied with the agency because we sent someone over and we'll have our retainer."
"I don't know, Jim...." I said cautiously. I had an excellent record as a part-time employee. I wasn't anxious to take the risk of getting a bad reference from a snooty place like Emerson School.
"Do it for me," he begged. "Consider it a personal favor. I promise you that if the school complains I'll cover it up on your record."
Over the last several weeks Jim Brown had become even closer to me than my husband. I felt obligated to do him the favor, although I wasn't especially looking forward to spending my days around a bunch of stuck-up rich kids in a library.
"Okay, Jim, I'm a librarian," I said hesitantly. "When do they want me?"
"Right away-," he said happily. "I'll call and tell them you're on your way."
When I got there I was immediately intimidated by the splendor of Emerson School, it looked more like an Ivy League college than a local high school.
The head librarian was a dried-up old crone who had trouble written all over her. I'd have to make my first priority keeping out of her way.
"This is what you will do, Mrs. Smith," she said officiously, pointing to a huge hand-truck full of books.
"I'm not' sure I understand completely, Miss Grundy," I replied.
"You have worked in a library before, haven't you, Mrs. Smith?" she said, wrinkling her nose as though anyone who was not surrounded all day by books was a piece of shit.
"Oh, yes. Certainly," I lied. "Of course."
"Then surely you know that I expect you to stack these books."
"In any particular order?"
"Oh, how droll, Mrs. Smith," she smiled wanly. "Now, if you're through with your levity, would you please get to work. These books have been waiting to be stacked for several days. Mid-term assignments are coming up, and our students must have their reference material available."
Actually I was grateful to Miss Grundy for her impatience. Hiding back in the stacks behind a truck-load of books, it was a lot easier to stall than it was with her eagle eye on me.
Once I was alone, I took my own sweet time figuring out what I should be doing. Inspecting some of the books from the top of the pile I realized that I was supposed to put them on the shelves according to the little numbers on their spine.
Looking up at the shelves and noting that I was standing in the midst of the 600's, I decided I'd start on those books first. When I went to the hand-truck I saw that there were dozens of 600 books in there. More than any other kind, in fact.
The 600's were in the rear comer of the library. You had to wind your way through a maze of several tiers of books to get to them.
Good, I thought, I can be here all day and nobody will notice me.
At first while I was stacking the books I didn't even bother to read the titles. But then, when I realized just how many of the books were on the same subject, I became curious as to what they were all about. Why were the kids at this school so interested in the books located in the most obscure part of the library?
I selected a book at random on the shelf and read its title: "The Functions of the Human Body".
Maybe they were educating a lot of future doctors here, I figured.
I read another one two shelves down. "The Human Reproductive System".
That sounded a little more interesting.
On the top shelf of the next tier of books was "The Physiology of Sex".
I was getting warm.
On the next shelf down was "Sexual Questions Answered By an M.D.".
I was getting warmer.
Directly below was "The Picture book of Sex."
I was hot.
Immediately L pulled "The Picture book of Sex" of the shelf and started leafing through it. When I saw a few of the pictures I thoroughly understood why the 600's were such a popular section.
The book was an attempt to explain the biology of sex according to the philosophy that a picture is worth a thousand words. For instance, no prose could adequately explain what a woman's cunt looked like if the reader had never seen one.
On page twelve of the book, there was a picture of one.
In full color, an entire page was taken up with the glistening image of some anonymous woman's pussy.
She had spread it wide open for the camera. The pink lips were parted. The mouth was moist.
At the top, the clit protruded stiffly, almost begging to be touched.
A fringe of crinkly black pubic hair surrounded the whole thing.
Page fifteen was even better.
A big, long cock stretched across two whole pages. They'd printed a life-size color photo of a-model's dong in a full state of erection.
It was so life-like that it compelled me to touch it. When I did I almost thought I could feel it throb.
And I knew for sure that my pussy was throbbing. The intersection between my legs was suddenly as moist as it could be from looking at pictures of cunts and cocks.
Now I got a little more selective. Turning to the front of the book, I scanned the table of contents. My eyes stopped when I came to the chapter entitled: "Intercourse".
Page forty-seven.
The chapter started with some text: "The act of sexual intercourse," it began, "is one of the most profound expressions of caring between the male and female of the species homo sapiens."
What a snooty way, I thought, to say that people just naturally like to fuck.
"In order to insure that true feelings of love are deep and genuine," the book continued, "the act of intercourse should only be engaged in by couples who are married. Only marital partners can fully experience the most deeply satisfying aspects of the sex act."
I shook my head, wishing that what the book said were so. Unfortunately, the only thing that was deeply satisfying to my marital partner was chasing a buck.
Upset by the emphasis on marital happiness in the first part of the chapter on intercourse, I flipped over a few pages, looking for the pictures.
There were plenty of them.
Glossy color photographs of people fucking filled page after page. First, there were pictures of different couples demonstrating the various positions. Then there were close-ups of what their organs were doing.
Near the end of the chapter, tight shots of screwing genitals came one after another. Huge, stiff cocks filled wet pussies to the hilt from a dozen different approaches. Each penetration seemed deeper than the last.
I came to the next chapter. It. was entitled, "Orgasm".
Skipping the text entirely, I went right on to the pictures.
Photo after photo showed cocks erupting so that their cum spurted from the comers of the pussies they were fucking. The pictures seemed so wet you could almost taste them.
And then, in a startling series of photographs, a miniature camera had been strapped to a cock, and actually showed what it looked like when it came inside a pussy. Time-lapse photography revealed the spurting sequence of an ejaculating prick as it filled a woman's fuck-hole with an ocean of snow-white jizz.
I had to put the book down. My hands suddenly wanted to be free for something else.
If I didn't do something about my convulsing pussy I was going to scream from the pressure between my legs. I'd have everybody in the library over here if I didn't attend to my throbbing cunt.
Because I hadn't anticipated any action while I was working in a library, I'd worn panties today. Too bad, because I'd just ruined another pair.
They were sopping wet.
Sliding my fingers under the elastic, I probed for my pulsing clit. When I found it, I gave it several quick flicks, tickling myself off.
I came immediately.
Now I tried to resume stacking the books. But it was no use. The first one I took out of the hand-truck was "An Illustrated Guide to Mature Sex".
The pictures in it were even more stimulating than the ones in the previous book. Spread-legged pussies were everyplace. Spurting hard-ons splattered the pages with photographic cum.
Within moments, my cunt was boiling again.
This time, I decided, I would have to do the job right. I decided to give myself a thorough finger-fucking.
My fingers were under my dress, down in my panties, and inside my pussy before I'd taken another breath. Only this time I didn't drop the book. I kept looking at the pictures of cocks and cunts while I diddled with myself.
Each new picture of a pussy or a prick made me cram my fingers even further into my gooey snatch. When I got to a photograph captioned, "Coitus Interruptus", I gasped from the penetration of my fingers.
It was a picture of a guy using the pull-out method of fucking. His cock had just been yanked out of a cunt and was captured on film in the process of coming all over it.
Thick globs of white sperm dotted the woman's pussy hair. Her open crotch was covered with it.
It was a beautiful sight.
I couldn't stop looking at it any more than I could stop finger-fucking myself. I gouged myself unmercifully, driven on by the stimulation of the graphic photograph before me.
There was something else I couldn't stop doing, either.
Moaning.
I was making myself come, and that meant I had to moan. There was no way I could control it. I moan when I come.
Especially when I'm doing it to myself.
"Ma'am, is there anything wrong?"
I almost jumped out of my skin. I was not alone!
I looked up and found myself staring into the face of a boy not over fourteen years old. He had just figured out what I was doing and was gaping like he'd just discovered a Martian in the stacks.
Standing up, I faced him, noting that he was even more nervous about his discovery than I was. He was a nice-looking kid, but right now he resembled a ghost.
"What's your name?" I asked him.
"J ... J ... Jerry," he finally stammered.
"You saw what I was doing, didn't you, Jerry?" He just gulped.
"Do I have to tell you what I was doing, Jerry?" He just stared at me.
"I was finger-fucking myself, Jerry. Do you understand what that means?"
He was still captured in the role of a big, gawking dummy.
"It means that I had my fingers inside my cunt," I continued. "Several of them. I had them knotted like the end of a cock, and I was fucking myself with them. Do you know why, Jerry?"
Finally, from some hidden resource, he recaptured the power to speak. "W ... w ... why?" he managed.
"Because I'm horny, Jerry. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
"It ... it means you're hot ... hot between your legs," he stuttered.
"Go ahead," I smiled, "you can say it. Where am I hot, Jerry?"
"In your ... your...." he faltered. He just couldn't get it out.
"In my cunt, Jerry," I completed his sentence. "I'm hot in my cunt. Very hot. Would you like to see?"
He nodded his head like a marionette.
I lifted up my dress and showed him my pussy.
My panties were so wet they were invisible.
Jerry's response was to drool like a hungry dog.
"Jerry," I said, still flashing my damp beaver at him, "do you think this is fair?"
His mind was so boggled he didn't know what to say.
"After all, Jerry," I pointed out, "I'm showing you my cunt, but I can't see your cock. I'll bet you have a big, fat one for a boy your age."
That made him speak. "Y ... y ... yes, I do," he blurted. "We had a contest in the dorm, and , I ... I ... "
"Yes?" I purred.
"I had the biggest one!" he exclaimed.
"Sshhhh," I whispered. "We don't want anyone to hear us, now do we, Jerry? Not when you're about ready to show me the biggest cock in the whole dorm."
My boldness had rendered him mute again.
"You're not going to back down now, are you) Jerry?" I said coyly. "Not when you've got the new librarian all excited about seeing your big, strong cock."
He was paralyzed.
"Well, I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands then," I said.
I dropped to my knees and began unbuttoning his fly. His cock popped out of his jeans faster than I could undo the buttons.
It was enormous for anybody.
The only hint of the tender age of the cock's owner was that it still hadn't obtained the thickness to correspond with its extended length.
But I was glad I had run into it now. There's nothing like the graceful perfection of a teenage boy's cock. As a young girl, before I'd known what sex was all about, I'd spied on my older brother jacking off, and wondered why I felt so tight and wet between my legs.
Bringing his cock to my mouth, I lightly brushed my lips across the head. His groin lurched, and a big drop of cum came oozing from the slit.
I licked it off and rolled it around in my mouth. It was delicious jizz-probably what my brother's would have tasted like if I'd ever had the sense to ask him to let me try it, way back then.
"Are ... are ... are you going to ... going to...." the boy stammered above me.
"Are I going to what, big-boy?" I teased him.
"S ...'s ... suck my cock?"
"Am I going to s ...'s ... suck your cock? Let's see now, Jer, that's an interesting question. What do you think? Do you think I'm going to s ...'s ... suck your cock, J ... Jer?"
"I hope so!" He miraculously managed to get the three words out one right after the other.
"Give that man a silver dollar," I responded buoyantly.
"D ... don't j ... joke with me ma'am," he stuttered pleadingly. "I don't think my n ... nuts can take it. They ... they're about to explode they're so tight."
"What's that," I turned and said to an imaginary aide, "you say we're all out of silver dollars? Well, how about if I gave him a wet, sucking mouth instead?"
Still on my knees, I turned back to the contestant and gave him his prize. His trophy quickly became his cock imbedded in my mouth.
My lips wrapped around inch after inch of his shaft. With each gobble, his cock-head plunged further down my throat.
I was eager to make him come quickly, because I knew the faster I got it, the more of it I would get. These teen-age boys were phenomenal. They could come repeatedly. I'd seen my brother draw cream several times in less than fifteen minutes.
I'd missed out on my brother. But this time I wanted all I could get.
Tightening my throat muscles, I tied a noose around the end of Jerry's cock. The only way he was going to wiggle free was to squirm out in a slippery canal of his own jism.
Wham, he came in my throat like a shot. His cum spurted as only long-pent-up teenage semen can do.
Spunk gushed into my belly in buckets. Within seconds there was a pool two inches deep in the pit of my stomach.
As I let his prick slide out of my mouth, I felt cum drooling from the comers and trickling down my chin. Some more dribbled from my nostrils.
My face was on the way to being covered with it.
Anxiously, I inspected his cock through sperm-flecked eyes to see if it was living up to my expectations. As I recalled, my brother's never seemed to grow soft.
Jerry's only seemed to grow harder. He had a magnificent boner. It was more ready to fuck one of my holes than it had been before he came in my mouth.
"Are you ready to fuck, Jerry?" I asked him. "Are you' ready to stick your prick into a girl's cunt and fuck her?"
He gulped.
"No, excuse me," I corrected myself. "Not a girl. A woman. A woman's cunt. A cunt with its lips full and moist. Its clit flat and throbbing. With curly pussy hair tangling all over it. Are you ready to fuck that kind of cunt, Jerry?"
It's a good thing for the art of communication that words aren't everything. Because Jerry couldn't produce any.
Fortunately, where his vocal cords failed him, his loins more than sufficed. Doing his talking for him, his thrusting pelvis blurted that he was ready, willing and able to fuck me. His cock, of course, was the exclamation point.
I got to my feet and started backing him against a shelf of books. When there was no more space for him to retreat, he slid to the floor. By the time he was all the way to the bottom, his stiff cock was looming all the way up to his chin.
Straddling his fallen form, I squatted before him, pulling up my dress and opening my legs to reveal my cunt. It was drooling for a fuck.
When I had maneuvered myself into the right position, I reached for Jerry's cock and guided it toward my dripping box. Only when I rubbed its head against what I thought were my nakedly throbbing labia did I realize that I was still wearing my panties.
They were no problem. Their crotch was so saturated with pussy juice that it-was practically dissolving. The barb at the head of Jerry's prick tore right through the sopping fabric with a good, hard shove.
With my panties split I was ready to fuck. As I rubbed his cock-head against my clit I could feel a wave of excitement course through me like high voltage through an overloaded wire.
Moving my fingers up his shaft to encircle the neck of his prick, I inserted the flange of Iris tool into my cunt. Immediately he started thrusting greedily for more, panting like an enraged bull.
Fortunately, like all teenage boys, he was an animal when he was sexually aroused.
And a positive glutton for more and more and more.
Just like me.
Inch after inch of hot, throbbing cock wriggled into my sucking cunt. As I lowered myself toward Jerry's lap to accommodate ever more, I spread the cheeks of my ass to make the deepest hole possible for his divine prick.
Finally his engorgement was to the maximum. I was sitting on his lap, his balls squishing beneath me. His cock was so far inside me that it felt like it was in my throat. My asshole pulsed with excitement in tandem with my pussy, throbbing from the immensity of Jerry's stabbing hard-on.
Above we embraced, locking our bodies so we wouldn't fall while we were fucking. Our mouths found each other, my tongue darting into his fresh-tasting mouth. Answering my soul-kiss, one of his hands slipped between my buttons and grabbed one of my tingling breasts.
As he gouged my nipple inside my bra-cup, I replied by slamming my pelvis down against his. His prick swiveled up me like a twisting corkscrew. At the same time, my tongue shot rigidly to the rear of his mouth, and down his throat. .
The slap of his balls against the wet bottom of my pussy filled my ears. His pumping cock slurped just as noisily inside me. Our fucking was a sheer symphony of liquid music.
"Are you a virgin?" I whispered tenderly in his ear after breaking off the kiss.
"Y ... y ... yes," he breathlessly admitted.
"I thought so," I said sympathetically. "You're going too fast. Slow down some. Give me the time to really feel your cock inside my pussy."
Settling down, he stopped jackhammering me, and began a slow twisting rhythm in my snatch. Suddenly I had the luxurious sense of being able to feel his every phallic dimension rubbing against the tight walls of my pussy.
Again I soul-kissed him. To keep him in the right groove, I matched the strokes of his cock in my cunt with my tongue in his mouth.
Then, after several moments of deep, slow fucking, I was ready to speed things up again. My cunt was so hot that only a dousing from his cock could put out the flames.
I didn't tell him what I wanted, I showed him. Speeding up the movement of my tongue in his mouth, I orally demonstrated what I wanted done between my legs.
The kid may have been cherry, but he had the sexual reflexes of a seasoned pro. Instantly he picked up the hint and began matching my oral strokes with his cock. All of a sudden his prick was pumping in my cunt like a piston.
First our mutual strokes were long and graceful, even with their rapidity. But then they gradually shortened into violent thrusts.
My tongue pummeled the inside of his mouth. At the same time his cock chopped short, crisp punches to my groin. My cunt felt like an oozing, bruised wound. It ached joyously.
I pulled my mouth from our prolonged soul-kiss and whispered wetly in his ear, "Come inside me. Fill me with your sperm, big-boy."
I could feel his cheek blush hotly when I called him "big-boy". Obviously I wasn't talking about his muscles.
I liked teasing him. When I realized how much it affected him, I poured it on.
"Come on, stud," I hissed, "let's see what you're made of. I've heard you teenage boys can come for hours."
I tweaked his cheek and ground my hips against his adolescent loins. His long prick was completely swallowed in the hole of my limitless but tight cunt.
"What's the matter," I chided, "losing your nerve? I'm doing all the work."
Being a kid, naturally he tried to fight back. However, I had succeeded in physically dominating him too much for that. Every movement on his part just served to seal Iris cock more securely in my pussy. I didn't ever have to let him go if I didn't want to.
He clawed frustratedly at my tits. The pain just made me homier. Secretly, I hoped he'd bring blood from my nipples.
Then, when he was at the peak of his frustration, I stopped moving my hips and put the burden of proof on him. His cock jammed up and down in my cunt like a pneumatic drill that had flown out of someone's hands.
"Come, junior, come," I pleaded, no longer joking around. I thought I'd die if I didn't feel his scalding boy-cream up my cunt right away.
"How's this?" he said through clenched teeth, A knot of hot spunk erupted like a cannonball from the surging head of his dick and shot against the rear wall of my pussy like a foul-ball slamming into a net. Instantaneously my twat was full of goo, brimming with steaming adolescent love-potion. My cunt was a swamp of sweet boy-cum.
"Keep coming," I urged. "I can't believe how much of it there is."
I was swooning in orgasmic appreciation of the endless fount of hot stickiness my teenage lover had stored between his legs. His cock seemed like it would never stop erupting.
However, knowing that nothing can last forever, I licked my lips, anticipating catching the last spurt with my mouth. I wanted to swallow at least the tail-end of the hot male juice that was melting my cunt. I just couldn't get enough of the taste of cum.
I pulled off his still-dribbling prick, my box absolutely dripping between my legs. Falling on all fours with my dress still up in back, I encircled his gurgling cock-head with my lips. Nibbling hungrily, I sucked all the way down to his straining nuts.
The minute he had stopped coming, and I had lapped away the last drops of goodness, I realized that I still wasn't satisfied. He was going to have to come a third time to please me.
With my bare ass sticking up in the air behind me, I began fucking my mouth with his cock, forcing it to stay hard. While I was at it, I squeezed his balls, shocking them into the resumption of the manufacture of heavenly sperm.
I couldn't believe how sweet the young man's dick tasted. And his cum was even sweeter.
Boy-juice was like some rich cream-a thick, confectionary sauce that could totally intoxicate a grown woman like myself.
While I sucked his cock, the boy took the initiative for the first time. Reaching back between my parted thighs, he slid his hand under the front of-my dress and began finger-fucking me while I knelt. My turgid clit throbbed in exotic agony as-he ground it between his thumb and pinky while he simultaneously reamed me out.
Meanwhile, his prick was quivering in my mouth. It definitely seemed to be true about teenage boys. They could come indefinitely.
He was on the verge of deliciously blowing in my mouth, giving me his sperm for the third time within minutes. I couldn't wait.
His prick lurched down my throat. Then the head exploded. Hot sperm gushed to my stomach.
The onslaught was even greater than the two times before. There was so much cum flooding into my mouth that I had to release his cock. It finished its spurting right in my face, while a ton of spunk came rolling out between my lips.
I closed my eyes, coming as much within myself as Jerry was coming on the outside of me. My orgasm was dizzying. I felt like I was soaring through space.
Then I landed. Smack dab right back in the middle of reality.
When I heard the scratchy couch, I forced open my cum-encrusted eyelids and looked straight into the prune face of Miss Grundy, the head librarian.
Her eyes were roving all over me and the boy, taking it all in. His stiff cock dribbling against my cheek. His hand halfway up my squishing pussy.
My bare ass waving in the air.
"I think the headmaster would like to see you both immediately," she said dryly as though she were incapable of emotion. "I'm sure he'll know what to do."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Emerson was probably the ritziest private school in the area. As I looked at its hallowed halls on the way to the headmaster's office, I realized that such a place could not afford the threat of a scandal. I was sure that anyone who compromised the school's integrity would be dealt with severely.
When we arrived at the headmaster's office, Jerry and I were separated. He went inside, while I fidgeted in a waiting room that looked like a gothic dungeon.
For a while there was total silence. Then, something startled me. Through the big oaken door sealing the headmaster's office I could hear somebody screaming.
I looked toward Miss Grundy. A cruel, thin-lipped smile creased her hatchet face.
It was Jerry screaming.
The sound of pain filled the air even through the barrier of the thick door.
Jerry's pain.
"Mr. Timmons has a special way of dealing with miscreants," she informed me. "It's very efficient, as is everything the man does. You should have seen what a shambles this school was in before he took over."
I turned my attention back to the sounds of what was going on on the other side of the door. Jerry's screaming still dominated, but now it was punctuated by something else. Something resembling a dull thud.
Something that was obviously making the poor kid scream bloody murder.
I was glad I wasn't a rich parent so I-wouldn't be tempted to send my kids to a school like this one.
"What is that noise?" I gulped, and forced myself to ask Miss Grundy, not really wanting to find out.
"You'll find out soon enough," she clucked.
"What are you talking about?" I blurted. "I'm no student!"
"Everyone is treated the same at Emerson," she said smugly. "This is a very progressive school. Mr. Timmons believes that we cannot expect the students to respect the faculty unless the faculty is subject to the same code of ethics."
"What do ethics have to do with brutal punishment?" I wanted to know.
"Ethics are like laws, my dear Mrs. Smith," Miss Grundy intoned with an air of grave superiority. "When they are violated, the offender must be punished. Swiftly and surely. And, of course, I'm sure you'll agree that punishment, to be just, must be the same for everyone. Especially for like crimes ... if you, heh-heh, know what I mean."
It was all too clear. They were planning to do to me whatever gut-wrenching thing the headmaster was now doing to poor Jerry.
"What is that thudding?" I demanded to know as Jerry yelped through the door.
"Don't be impatient," Miss Grundy said. "I'm sure after you find out, you'll wish you didn't know."
I was going to make a break for it, when suddenly the big oak door to the headmaster's office creaked open. My astonished eyes followed a staggering, tearful Jerry as he tripped out into the office with a sob, and then stumbled from the office. Even though my gaze was riveted to him, he never looked my way.
He acted as though he had just been tortured to within an inch of his life. Yet, oddly enough, I couldn't spot a mark on him. I couldn't figure it out.
When he was gone, my eyes reverted to the headmaster's office. Standing in the light of the open door was the meanest-looking man I'd ever seen in my life.
"Mrs. Smith," Miss Grundy said icily. "Mr. Timmons will see you now."
Before I could make up my mind about fleeing, the prudish librarian slipped up behind me and surprised me with her strength. Holding my arms, she marched me toward Timmons' office and delivered me to the scowling headmaster.
Suddenly I was inside the office. Miss Grundy's smug face disappeared as the huge door abruptly slammed shut. I could hear a lock clicking into place.
I was alone with Timmons.
Confronted with the sneering headmaster, I quaked like a schoolgirl instead of a twenty-two-year-old woman.
He showed his menacingly white teeth before he spoke. Then, like a talking shark, he said, "We've been very bad haven't we, Mrs. Smith? Very, very bad. Do you know what happens to bad boys and girls at this school, Mrs. Smith?"
I was afraid to ask.
"The same thing that happens to bad staff members," he informed me anyway. "Even temporary ones."
"I see," I gulped.
"I'm glad you see," he said, curling his lip. "I'm glad you understand we have a reputation to protect. Now, suppose you describe to me in your own words the exact nature of the offense you committed."
He paused ominously.
"Remembering, of course," he finally continued, "that I am in possession of the exact details, and you will be punished twice as severely should you lie. We hold honesty as the highest virtue here at Emerson."
This was insane. He was treating me as though I were some silly schoolgirl. Yet, even more insanely, there was no way out.
"I'm waiting, Mrs. Smith."
"Okay, so we fucked," it came blurting out. "I fucked one of your students."
"Is that all?"
"I sucked his prick. I drank his cum. So what? I'm over twenty-one."
"But your, uh, victim was only fourteen."
"Victim?" I bleated incredulously. "Did he tell you that? He was with me every step of the way."
"Victim in the eyes of the law, Mrs. Smith," Timmons made his case clear. "Surely, you are aware of the legal statutes concerning sex with a minor. One of them is commonly known as statutory rape. Another is referred to as contributing to the delinquency of a minor. There are others that are pertinent to your situation too, of course."
"Such as?" I challenged him.
"Crimes against nature," he said with an icy smile. "Such as when the male sex organ is inserted in an opening not directly connected with the reproductive function."
"Speak English, you stuffed-shirt," I retorted angrily, totally fed up with his snooty airs.
"Cocksucking, my dear Mrs. Smith." He shocked me with his unexpected candor. "Didn't you know, Mrs. Smith, that it's against the law in this state for anybody to suck another person's penis?"
I couldn't believe it. That meant two-thirds of the people in the state were technically criminals.
"Of course," Timmons went on, "it's not a crime that is generally prosecuted. The state, after all, doesn't wish to go peeking into people's bedrooms. However...."
"Yes?" I asked anxiously.
"When it happens in the middle of a library ... and a grown woman is sucking a teenage boy's cock ... well, then I think an adequate case can be made for enforcing the law."
I didn't like it one bit, but Timmons had me dead to rights. Not only would my part-time job career be over if he turned me in to the authorities, but my husband would be sure to find out. Bill would probably leave me over something like this.
All my toughness had vanished. "You're not going to call the police, are you?" I blubbered.
"Not if you'll agree to accept the same punishment I gave the student you corrupted," he said. "I'd say that's getting off pretty easy under the circumstances, wouldn't you, Mrs. Smith?"
I nodded numbly.
"You're fortunate you committed this offense in a school that's progressive enough to treat students and staff in equal fashion."
I silently agreed that I was. Mr. Timmons had a way of making me feel as though I was lucky to be facing his punishment.
"Now, hike your skirt, Mrs. Smith," he said, "and bend over, please."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Do it!" he thundered. "Running this school is a demanding job. I'm a busy man. I haven't got all day to fool with the likes of you. Take your punishment and be gone."
He was so commanding that I felt I had no alternative but to do what he said. Turning away from him, I lifted my hem and fell to my knees.
"On all fours, please, Mrs. Smith," Timmons said impatiently. "I want a good target."
Target for what? I thought.
In any case, I would give him one. My panties, of course, had been ripped to shreds from fucking Jerry. I could feel the crack of my ass and my pussy bulging nakedly out as I knelt before the vengeful headmaster.
He walked away. Stealing a glance over my shoulder, I saw him going toward his desk. When he got there he picked up something that was initially concealed from my view, and grinned.
He started back toward me. Now I could see what was in his hand. It was a long, flat paddle.
At last I understood the dull thuds I had heard. They were the sounds of the paddle pounding against Jerry's bare ass. When he came out of the office, the evidence of Jerry's bruises were hidden by his pants.
The sound of Jerry's tortured screaming came back to me. It echoed in my mind as though he were in the room with me.
The screaming became louder and louder. More and more blood-curdling.
But the screams were no longer in my imagination. They were resonating off the walls. They were louder and more terrible than Jerry's screams, each of them preceded and followed by a dreadful "thwack".
They were my screams. Timmons was beating my ass like he was trying to turn it into hamburger.
Over and over again the flat hell of the paddle whammed against my backside. I could feel the impact of each blow to the depths of my guts. The pain was about to make me puke.
Listening to myself cry out in pain, I shuddered from the impact of each terrible blow. Timmons was an expert at punishment.
Each blow caught the entirety of the target. As the paddle flattened against my ass, my cheeks splayed and the crashing wood stung against the tender orifices of my anus and pussy. I couldn't help but wonder what Jerry's balls must feel like?
Then, finally, after so many whacks that I couldn't count them, Timmons stopped beating me. Shaking like a wet dog on all fours, I felt my asshole and pussy literally burning at my rear.
According to what I'd been told, that should have been it. Yet, when I started to struggle to my feet, Timmons sputtered for me to stay down.
"What makes you think I'm through with you already, little girl?" he leered.
"I'm not a little girl," I blurted. "I'm a grown woman! And you've treated me like a child long enough."
"But you've behaved like a bad little girl," he informed me of his warped opinion. "So badly, in fact, that I think you've earned a lesson you'll never forget."
"You're crazy!" I cried. "I don't have to take this!"
"Then perhaps you'll have to take this," he said, his icy voice melting with hot excitement.
I looked around just in time to see his big red cock spring out of his pants.
It was enormous. Even more menacing than his paddle.
Before I could even gasp, his cock was surging inside my cunt. I gasped plenty,, though, by the time he was buried in me all the way to the hilt, fucking me like crazy.
I tried to crawl away, but he put his hands on my hips and held me. Then, with his grip intact, he started moving my ass from side to side. His cock twisted like a corkscrew within my whipsawing pussy.
"Do you discipline all of your students this way, Mr. Timmons?" I asked sarcastically when I had recovered my senses enough to speak.
"Only the ones who are old enough to appreciate the punishment," he answered as he ground his stiff dick to my depths.
"Boys and girls?" I asked incredulously, realizing that he was taking me seriously.
"If the punishment fits," he answered sanctimoniously.
"If the hole fits, wear it, huh?" I cracked derisively.
"Precisely," he said with a lunge against my ass. "You're not as dense as you originally appeared, Mrs. Smith. If you were one of Emerson's pupils, I'd say that you just went to the head of the class."
His pedantic snobbery made me sick. Ordinarily a cock as big as he had would have felt dreamy in , my cunt. But as long as he kept talking, I was turned off.
.There was no doubt about it. The real punishment was his mouth.
"Just shut up and fuck me," I blurted impulsively. "I can take your cock, but not your chatter."
He sputtered like an incipiently gushing geyser behind me. Obviously, nobody had ever talked to him the way I was.
"You like my ass," I wisecracked. "How come you don't like my ass?"
To emphasize my contempt for him, I seized control of the fucking by tightening my pussy muscles around his dick like a hangman's noose. His hands flew in shock from my hips as I gyrated my loins like a hoochie-coochie dancer. I let him know that he had his cock buried in more woman than he could ever hope to handle.
Huffing and puffing, I threw everything I had into fucking. I was determined to make this son of a bitch come on my terms.
"Come, you bastard!" I cried contemptuously as I practically tore his cock from his groin with my whipsawing fuck-movements.
I moved the way I had that day with the four guys in the garage. With one cock in me instead of four, the bone-racking pressure I exerted on the lone peter was more than a single person could stand Timmons cried out as intensely as Jerry or I ever had. My cock-wrenching cunt was a far more efficient instrument of agony than he could have ever hoped his silly paddle to be.
"Oh, God, I'm coming!" he screamed. He had completely cracked.
The jizz came pouring out of his peter like the onslaught from a crumbling dam. My pussy became filled with it as I started to come along with the headmaster.
Our contest of wills became temporarily forgotten as we shared a long, convulsing dual orgasm. For every spurt of his cock there was a convulsion of my loins.
As his balls tightened, sucking themselves inside out, my womb expanded and contracted.
Our animalistic cries filled the room, drowning out the squishing of his cock in my cunt.
For a few brief moments there was no trace of animosity between us. We were simply a man and woman fucking, communicating in the primal way God had intended members of the opposite sex to do.
I could feel every inch of his hot, throbbing cock inside of me. Its every quiver was picked up by the ultrasensitive walls of my clutching pussy. Every drop of his cum was a highlight of my life.
But, inevitably, the good vibes began to diminish. Finally they were doused, like soggy ashes, as Timmons' masculinity caught up with him and he had no more jizz to shoot up my pussy.
Being a woman, I was still hot as a two-dollar pistol. My cunt was still coming as hard as ever. The only difference now was that it had to deal with a soggy, limp prick laying lifelessly within its spasming midst.
I wiggled my ass impatiently, but it served no purpose other than to wilt Timmons' cock even more. Eventually it became so shriveled and useless that it just shrunk completely from my box.
I stood up and wheeled around toward the pitiful wreck now kneeling before me. As I gazed clown contemptuously on him, I spread my legs and felt the excess sperm gush down my thighs.
"My, my," I sneered, "it seems we aren't so tough after we've shot our wad. What do you do for an encore, Timmons, drop dead?"
My wrath transformed him into a forty-year-old schoolboy. He was sniveling now.
He was the errant pupil, begging for punishment. I was the headmistress.
I walked over and picked up my paddle. Coming back toward Timmons, I whacked its flat surface against my palm. The sharp slap made me smile when I thought how the paddle would feel driven with all my force against Timmons' bare ass.
"What's your first name?" I asked him.
"D ... D .. Douglas," he whimpered.
"All right, Dougie," I turned his name against him, using it to seal my judgment of him as a misbehaving child. "You've been a very bad boy and Mrs. Smith is going to have to punish you. Punish you very cruelly, so you will learn your lesson once and for all."
"I ... I'll never do it again," he blurted in a cracking high-itched voice, reverting back to his childhood.
"That's just the problem, Dougie," I sneered, looking down pointedly at his withered cock. "I wanted you to do it again, and you let me down. Oh, Dougie, how you let me down. You know that's not very nice, Dougie. It's not very nice to get a lady all hot and sticky, and then let her down."
He looked down with shame at his useless dork. Tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks while I chastised him with a withering glare.
"Don't try and play on my sympathy, Dougie," I hissed. "You've displeased me, and you're going to pay for it. You're going to pay for it dearly."
I whacked the paddle against my open hand for emphasis. I could see him wince at the sound of the sharp crack.
"Stop wasting my time!" I barked. "On all fours, with your ass toward me. You're going to take your punishment like a man. I'm going to beat you into your manhood."
With the target of his ass before me, I reached down and ripped his trousers all the way down to his knees. Gazing venomously at the globes of his white cheeks, I poised the paddle just under my ear, getting ready to strike.
"Oooomph!" I let out a grunt as I swung it forward with all my might.
Thwack! The flat expanse of the hard wood crashed against his buns. His ass flew apart as the striking surface penetrated all the way to his asshole.
"Yeeeeoooowww!" he screamed.
When I removed the paddle, preparing for my second time at bat, I saw that his asshole was a purple bruise. It looked like an overripe plum hanging between his cheeks.
Whack! I bashed him again.
"Arrrgggghhh!" he cried even more piteously than the first time.
His anus was an even bigger mess. Now it resembled a rotten tomato:
Thud!
"Aaaaa!"
Now his balls were starting to get black and blue.
"I'll bet you can feel it all the way down in your crotch when I hit you, Dougie. I know I did when you were playing this little game with me."
"Please ... please...." he begged. "Don't paddle me any more. I'll do anything you want!"
An attractive enough offer to one so motivated by revenge as myself. Especially since I was still horny at the same time.
"Roll over, Dougie," I ordered. "I need to see if there is any improvement in your attitude before I make up my mind."
I made up my mind right away. When he flopped on his back, I saw that his prick had swollen out to-about six inches. Apparently my blows to the back of his scrotum had pounded some life back into his cock and balls.
There was no way I could let such a charming rehabilitation go to waste.
I fell to the floor and began sucking his dick. It was red hot in my mouth, burning from the pain that had uncontrollably shocked it into semi erection.
I was determined to make it even hotter.
And harder.
Much, much harder.
My wet lips must have been like medication on Timmons' prick. When I started sucking in earnest, the brittleness engendered by fear seemed to melt from his body. Before I knew it he was writhing sensually beneath my suctioning mouth.
He wrapped his legs around my neck. I would have considered it impertinent just a few moments previously, but now I welcomed it. His maneuver brought my mouth all the way to the nuts on his prick, and that was exactly what I craved. My nose was buried in his dense pubic bush.
When I had started, this had just been a retributive blow-job. Now, however, it had turned into something far better.
Timmons was revived enough to move his hips. He gyrated them in the classic fucking motion.
He was fucking me in the mouth.
His cock was so long that its head was halfway down my throat. I gagged on its immensity and loved it.
My fingers went to his swollen, bruised balls and caressed them while his surging prick made a pussy of my mouth. His nuts were so tender from the pounding they had taken that holding them was like fondling a piece of fresh round steak.
I stroked them tenderly, handling them with as much care as I would a baby's during a bath. It was hard to believe that I'd been capable of doing so much damage to a man's balls.
My action was not all in mercy, however. I quickly discovered that the more I kneaded Timmons' tender balls, the harder his cock became in my mouth. Whatever damage I had done to his equipment obviously hadn't damaged his sperm-making capability. If anything, he seemed on the verge of releasing more jizz than he had the first time.
With the expectation of some sweet male-cream, I really got excited. My lips surged up and down Timmons' cock. With his foreskin caught between my teeth, I whipsawed his straining dick back and forth, making imminent ejaculation inevitable.
"Come, come!" I mumbled urgently from around the pole of his prick. "Come in my mouth!"
He did. A flood of cum twice as torrential as his original ejaculation poured down my throat in a raging tide. My insides were instantly coated with the slime of bubbling masculine goo.
Timmons had proved he was a man.
I was delighted to have him on my good side. And my good side was inside of me where I was coming to beat the band.
My orgasm was hotter than Timmons' prick and spunk put together. I was having an oral climax that made my throat feel just like the climaxing tunnel of a spasming cunt. My stomach expanded and contracted like a womb.
When we had each finally had enough, I let Timmons' cock slide from my mouth and fell to Iris side. Languishing in the afterglow of mutual orgasm, we shared a long, lingering soul-kiss. Sharing the taste of his cum in our mouths was a divine thrill.
The kiss was so delicious that we didn't even break it when the great oaken door suddenly creaked open. Our mouths only parted when the intruder cleared her throat.
We both watched with amusement while she tried to overcome her shock. Her face got more and more gaunt, while her complexion became paler and paler. Instead of looking like a prune, her face now resembled a death-mask.
Finally Timmons got tired of her standing there like a puritanical zombie.
"Miss Grundy," he said sharply.
"Y ... y ... yes?" she somehow managed.
"Go stack your books."
As she turned to leave, Timmons shoved his face between my thighs and started eating my cunt.
CHAPTER EIGHT
On the home front, something peculiar was happening. I found myself starting not to care whether Bill ever showed up or not.
It wasn't so much that I resented his absence any more. It was more like I just didn't want to be bothered by him.
The fact of the matter was that I was getting all the action I needed on the outside now. When I came home from working, I was just as tired as Bill was when he got home from his insurance agency.
It was such a drag when he'd come home at nine or ten o'clock, expect me to fix him dinner, and then bore me silly with a lot of meaningless gabbing about the insurance business. He could have been babbling about the nesting patterns of sunfish and I would have been about as interested.
I wanted to be alone. I wanted to lay naked in bed with my legs luxuriously spread and think dreamily of what I'd done all day.
While I recalled all of the surprising twists of my latest part-time job, I could feel the leftover cum of that day oozing out of my box. I liked the puddle it made in the sheet under my crotch.
Of course with Bill hanging around, such post-fucking reverie was impossible. Enough of me still wanted to be a good wife so that I had to get up and pop a TV dinner in the oven for him, and then sit there and listen to him yak about insurance while my mind was still on hard cocks and wet pussies.
He was so preoccupied with his damn business that he didn't notice that my mind was elsewhere. Then, one day, he surprised me with his perceptiveness.
"You're not paying attention one thing I say, are you Sheila?" he said through a mouthful of Hungry Jack.
"I beg your pardon...." I dropped my gums. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"I said," he said, and swallowed his food, "you're not paying attention to anything I say."
"Sure ... sure I am," I lied.
"Okay," .he said smugly. "What was I just telling you?" '
"You were ... you were talking about...."
"Yes?"
"Dentures!" I blurted a familiar-sounding word that I seemed to recall him recently saying. "I remember it distinctly. You were talking about dentures."
"Debentures," he sneered. "I was talking about debentures. I was telling you about some debt problems the company is having with its actuarial funds."
"I'm sorry," I said, embarrassed to be caught in such a transparent deceit.
I felt terrible, and ashamed. Even if we weren't getting along, Bill was still my husband. How could I ever expect marital happiness if I didn't play it square with him? It was obvious that the love and honesty were slipping out of our marriage hand in hand.
Suddenly I yearned to tell him the truth.
"Bill, there's something I have to say to you," I said, shaking along with the quaver in my voice.
"More lies?" he seethed contemptuously.
"No ... no more lies," I promised.
"Well, I'm waiting," he glared at me.
I looked straight at him. There was no mercy in his face. His expression was harder than I had ever seen it before. His eyes were like hot, burning coals.
"Well?" he snapped impatiently.
I had brought myself to the verge of the truth, but Bill's coldness had abruptly stopped me like a brick wall. Try as I might, I couldn't force myself to take the plunge and tell the truth.
"What is it?" he hissed sarcastically. "Where is this sparkling honesty we're all on the edge of our seats waiting for?"
"Bill, I want you to fuck me," I lied. It was the only thing I could think of to say.
"How typical of you!" he thundered. "How typically selfish of you. How typically selfish of a woman. I work myself to a frazzle all day long making a future for us, and when I come home I'm expected to perform on cue like a horny teenage boy."
"Just this once," I forced a catch in my voice. "Just tonight. I really want it, Bill. I really need it. I really need your cock in my cunt."
"Don't be juvenile," he sneered. "Even if I were in the mood, you'd have turned me off already with your gushy sentimentality. You sound like some little high-school cheerleader with hot pants."
"Well, I was once, you know," I snapped back. "And if I recall, you didn't seem to mind it at all."
"That was back in high school, Sheila," he said like he was explaining something to a mental cripple. "We're living in the real world now ... or at least I am."
"Yeah, the real world where all we do is wait for the future," I retorted. "Well, what about my present?"
"You're so childish, Sheila, with your demands for immediate gratification," Bill said. "Don't you think it's time for you to grow up a little?"
"Fuck you, you hopeless square!" I yelled at him as! got up from the table and walked out of the room.
He tried to follow me out of the kitchen, but I was already to the closet and had thrown a coat around me. By the time he reached where I had just been, I was headed for the front door.
"Where are you going?" he called after me. "Out," I seethed. "Just out."
"But you don't have anything on under your coat except a nightgown," he pointed out. "You'll freeze out there. It's cold out tonight."
I was so pissed off at him that there wasn't anything left to say. I gave him the finger, pulled open the door, and left. The sound of it slamming in his face was the first satisfaction I'd had since Bill had come home.
I was so steaming with anger that I was three blocks away from home before I cooled down enough to realize that Bill had been telling the truth about the weather. It was frigid outside. Winter had gotten here early this year.
I was virtually naked under my coat. My nightgown was a thin, filmy affair, useless except for show. I had forgotten that it was all I had on, because in Bill's case the show had been long since canceled. When I stomped out of the house, as far as my awareness was concerned, I might as well have been wearing a suit of armor under my coat.
The cold air had permeated what little I was wearing, and my nipples were puckering on my tits. Between my legs, my cunt hair seemed to crackle stiffly as I walked.
All of a sudden, I forgot about how mad I was at Bill. The cold had done what nothing else could do: make me want to go home to my husband.
However, my pride wouldn't let me turn around and go back.
"That goddamn son of a bitch!" I tried to keep warm by stoking my anger against him. "I can't get him to fuck me even when I don't want him to fuck me. And that's what happens to most wives three nights out of the week."
It was no use, I was getting colder by the minute. My anger was counter-productive, because it just made me chillier. Down deep I was in the depressing process of confronting the fact that my marriage was probably over. Such unsparing self-honesty could not help but make my blood run cold.
I had to face it: Bill and I just didn't have it as a married couple. The only time we had gotten our kicks together was before we were married.
Maybe, I thought, if I could just meet him all over again. We could start fresh. It would be like our two stifling years of marriage had never happened.
I thought fondly back to the juicy moments of hot sex Bill and I had shared back in high school. I remembered one night in particular at the drive-in movie.
Thinking about that, I suddenly felt warm.
!t had been a double-bill of soft-core porno movies on a cold night just like this one. They show those dirty movies at the drive-in during the chilly season because they're the only things that'll draw customers at that time of year.
In one of them, the heroine was going through man after man, looking for the guy who would finally give her an answer. It was kind of like Cinderella in a way, except she was looking for the perfect-fitting cock instead of trying on glass slippers.
We both got exceptionally horny watching it. Since it was soft-core, during the film's many fucking scenes, the camera just showed the top half of the actors' naked bodies. But that was all right with us, because were so turned on that what we imagined was going on below their waists was better than anything they could have shown.
"I can see it in my mind," I said to Bill. "His cock is all the way inside her cunt. Ten inches of it all the way to his hairy balls."
"No, no," he laughed. "He's fucking her in the
"How do you know?"
"Look at the expression on her face," he said. "That's not just pleasure. That's pain and pleasure both. Watch what happens when she finally comes."
I stared transfixed at the screen. When the actress registered orgasm she screamed like she had just had something ripped out of here.
That convinced me. He was fucking her in the ass.
Now my mind completed the rest of the picture. His huge cock pumped in and out of her tight shit-pit. The straining ridges of her asshole were like a noose around the shaft of his pumping cock.
When the leading man moaned on the screen, he ejaculated in my mind. His cum gushed from his stiff cock and poured up the girl's asshole.
There was too much jizz and it came spurting out. Suddenly they were both covered with it. Her buns were sticky. His cock hair was dripping. It trickled down her spread thighs.
"See what I mean?" Bill said, noticing the big smile on my face as the scene ended.
I certainly did. And I wanted to see more.
"Can you do it to me?" I asked bluntly, wiping the smile off his face with the unexpectedness of my remark.
He sputtered inanely, completely nonplused.
He had fucked me plenty since we'd started going together, and I had sucked his cock and swallowed frequently. But we had never gone this far out on the limb.
We had never contemplated ass-fucking.
However, as shocked as he was, it wasn't long before I had Bill snorting like a bull and eager to do anything I wanted. And tonight I wanted his big, strong cock plugging my tingling asshole.
His resistance was melted down by unzipping his fly, pulling his prick out of his pants, and sucking it until it was long and hard. Then I slipped it under my dress and rubbed it against my bare, wet pussy. Even then I was in the habit of not wearing panties on selected occasions.
His cock couldn't stand to be rubbed against my slick cunt lips without getting hopelessly aroused. When his prick was stiff enough so that I knew I could make its owner do anything I wanted him to, I slid his cock-head down from my box toward the puckering rosebud of my anus.
Before he could move, I threw my legs over his shoulder and then hooked them downward at the knees. He was my prisoner as we sat crotch-to-crotch with his dick slipping between the crack of my ass.
I stuck my hand underneath us and gave his peter a little help. Expertly guiding it as though I had fucked this way several limes before, I stuffed the end of his prick into the spasming mouth of my bunghole.
His cock went into my ass like they were made for each other. Of course the fit was excruciatingly tight. That's what made it so wonderful.
"Fuck me, Bill," I begged as I closed my haunches around his penetrating prick. "Really made me feel you inside. Fuck me until you come in my ass!"
I never did find out whether he had done it to another girl before, but he sure knew how to do it to me. Once I had his cock in my anus several inches, he drove for the rest of it entirely on his own. Before I knew it I found myself sitting on ten inches of male meat.
The sensation was so tight around his cock that he blew off in me almost immediately after cramming to the hilt. Before I had ever gotten started on grooving with his ass-fucking, he was spilling his seed into my ass.
I still wasn't satisfied, so I made him keep fucking even after he had come. Because he was so young, and in excellent shape from playing football, he was able to respond. As soon as he stopped spurting, he picked right up where be had left off.
During the second fuck was when I really started to feel it. I started to get my rocks off plenty as Bill fucked deeper and deeper into my ass.
When he came a second time, I was coming right along with him. Sperm flooded my insides, finally backing up in my rectum and spraying out from my cock-engorged asshole.
Before that night at the drive-in was over, Bill had fucked me two more times. He wound up shooting his wad in every hole.
Oh, if only it could be now like it was then, I thought wistfully as I walked along the deserted street. Just the thought of those days had temporarily warmed me up.
But now the memory was sadly fading, and I was getting cold again. The wind was blowing now, and it cut through my coat as though I were wearing nothing. To avoid the sting of the wind, I ducked into an alley. I had walked all the way to downtown, which considering the way things had been going for the city in the last few years, was now the worst part of town. Sometimes it seemed like the only two industries remaining in the inner city where crime and adult bookstores.
The alley was a depressing corridor between one deserted street and another. The only ones using the passageway at the moment seemed to be me and a number of rats.
Then I learned I was not as alone as I thought.
"Don't move, lady," the owner of an arm suddenly thrown across my throat hissed in my ear. "Don't move or I'll kill you. I can take what I want from you dead or alive."
"But I ... I have no money," I gasped, his arm choking me.
"Money isn't what I'm interested in," he hissed in my ear.
"Then ... then ... what do you want?" I gulped, scared out of my wits.
"Pussy."
"You're going to rape me?"
"I'm going to fuck the living shit out of you, lady."
Oh, God, I thought, how could this be happening to me? It seemed that no matter what I did when it came to my home-life, it turned out wrong.
When I stayed home with my husband, I got bored out of my mind.
When I finally got fed up with him and stomped out of the house, I wound up getting raped.
"Oh, shit," I said, overwhelmed with disgust. "Go ahead and fuck me and get it over with. You won't even have to rip off my clothes-I'm just wearing a nightie under my coat."
"All prepared, huh?" he leered.
"If you want to believe that," I said tiredly.
His eager fingers lost no time in undoing the buttons and turning me around to face him. I could make out his mouth watering in the dark as he ripped open my coat and gazed at my nearly naked body.
Now his cock came out as suddenly as he had grabbed me from behind. The comparison was more than fitting, because his prick seemed almost as big around as his arm. It was a monster.
"Where are you going to fuck me with that?" I suddenly had an idea.
"In your pussy, like I told you earlier," he rasped impatiently.
"How would you like to try my ass?" I said calmly.
His tongue popped out of his mouth almost as erectly as his cock was twitching outside his pants.
Would he like to fuck me in the ass?
Does a dog have fleas?
I got down on my hands and knees for him and shoved my ass in front of him. Kneeling, he pulled apart my cheeks with trembling hands, fingering my anus in wonder.
"Hurry up," I snapped. "I haven't got all night. Are you going to fuck me in the ass, or not?"
He was. Boy, how he was.
His cock dug into my ass like a farmer's plow tearing up a cornfield. The penetration was instantaneous and deep. I could feel his cock-head bruising all the way to the gooey depths of my bowels.
As he started his fucking motion, I closed my eyes and transported myself back into the past for the second time this evening.
I wasn't in a dirty alley at all being sordidly sodomized by a rapist.
I was back in the drive-in, in Bill's arms. It was his prick splitting my bunghole.
I wasn't on all fours like some animal getting it in the ass from some perverted beast.
I was locked in my Bill's embrace, being tenderly buggered by a cock of love.
When the rapist came, in my mind it was Bill's hot wad shooting up my ass. It felt just the way I remembered that night at the drive-in. Hot and sticky and filled with his love for me.
My orgasm was a similar testament to our deep feelings for each other. In fact, it was almost as wet as my lover's. My anus was creaming as I shuddered from an intense anal orgasm.
If only it could be like this now, I thought as the spurting within me finally stopped and I felt hot cum dribble down the backs of my legs.
If only Bill and I weren't married.
If only we hadn't gotten to know each other so well.
I must have thought about that for twenty minutes after the rapist finished fucking me and had dashed off into the night, not even bothering to put his cock back in his pants. The cold didn't bother me I was so wrapped up in my thoughts.
It was only when I noticed that my nipples were turning blue that I put on my coat and reluctantly headed back home. By the time I got there Bill was sound asleep, snoring loudly.
I was so depressed I slept on the couch the rest of the night, convinced that my marriage was all but over.
CHAPTER NINE
"Bill, I've made up my mind," I told him the next morning over coffee.
"What's that, dear?" he said, peering into the newspaper as he did every morning, and acting as though everything was peachy between us.
"I want a divorce," I said firmly.
"Couldn't it wait until I get home tonight," he said like his voice was a recorded message. "This weekend would even be better."
"Bill!" I yelled his name. "I'm talking about a divorce, not fixing the plumbing!"
"Plumbing?" he said, looking up from his damn newspaper at last. "Did you say something about the plumbing? Don't tell me those damn pipes are on the fritz again."
I literally spelled it out for him. "Bill," I said as evenly as possible under the trying circumstances.
"I'm talking about D-I-V-O-R-C-E."
"I'm not a child," he huffed. "You don't have to spell things in front of me so I won't know what you're talking about."
"That's just it, Bill!" I cried. "I spelled it out because I wanted you to be sure and know what I'm talking about. Why is it that you must always have the opposite reaction to me that I want you to?"
I was so frustrated I could scream. Here I was trying to communicate the most important decision I had ever made in my life, and I still couldn't get Bill to understand.
I was telling my husband that I had decided to break up our marriage, and he didn't know what I was talking about. What further proof did I need that we were through?
Seething with tension, I decided an alternate means to get my point across. I found a pencil and wrote it down in great big letters on a paper napkin.
"I want a divorce!"
Then I handed it to him like a summons.
Now he got the picture. I knew it when he spit coffee all over the front of his clean shirt.
I expected him to beg me to reconsider.
And maybe I would have if he had lived up to my expectation.
But of course he didn't. As usual he responded in the exact opposite of what I had hoped for.
"You'd pick a time like this to do this to me, wouldn't you?" he yelled. "You'd pick this morning to spring this on me, knowing that today is the day I'm trying to close a group insurance deal with Jetstar Manufacturing. You'd pick the most important day of my business career."
"I didn't know anything about any Jetstar Manufacturing," I told him honestly. "I promise."
"You also promised to love, honor and obey," he sarcastically reminded me of our wedding vows. "Instead, you seem intent of shooting me down. On ruining my career."
"I've tried," I broke down and sobbed. "God knows I've tried."
"Tried a dozen different ways to drive me crazy," he retorted.
He got up and went into the bedroom. When he returned he was wearing a clean shirt and had his jacket on.
"I'm leaving now," he announced. "But you better be here tonight when I get home. I'm finally going to give you what you really deserve,' Sheila. I'm going to turn you over my knee and give you a spanking you'll never forget. I think that's what you've needed all along."
I was rendered speechless by his self-centered attitude. As he slammed the door I realized that my conclusion was definite: we were going nowhere with each other. A divorce was the only answer I could think of.
But whether Bill would see the need for a legal end to our marriage or not, I was getting out while the getting was good. I couldn't stand to live with him in the same house for another minute-even if he was almost never there.
I left the house with only the bare necessities, caught a cab, and checked into the nearest motel. I purposely took a taxi so I wouldn't have to be reminded of him by the station-wagon he'd bought with the money he'd worked so hard for that the strain had destroyed our marriage.
After I got settled into the motel room, I called on the outside line for the employment agency. The line was busy.
Waiting for the line to clear, I sat down on the edge of the bed and nervously smoked a cigarette. If was important for me to get in touch with Jim Brown as quickly as possible. Now that I was on my own, I needed a full-time job to support myself.
"Damn! Damn!" I cursed when I dialed again and the line was still busy several minutes later. "Double damn!"
Nothing was turning out right for me any more.
The way things had been going, when I finally got through to the agency, I fully anticipated the disappointing news I got. Jim had been unexpectedly called out of town. A family illness, or something. They weren't sure when he'd return.
"Perhaps I could help you with something, ma'am," the person on the other end of the line suggested.
No way, I thought. Jim was the only one who understood my file. He was the only one who could see that my special talents were appropriately used.
Anybody else but Jim would have me scrubbing floors, or empty bedpans.
"Ma'am ... ma'am...." the person on the other end of the line said nervously when I didn't verbally respond. "Ma'am ... are you still there? I didn't say something you took the wrong way, did I?"
"Aw, fuck you!" I said on impulse, and ended the frustrating conversation by slamming the receiver into its cradle.
So what was I supposed to do until Jim Brown came back to work? I didn't need a job so badly that I couldn't afford to stay at this motel for a few days on the money I'd saved from part-time work, but what would I do with myself in the meantime?
I had to be the only person unlucky enough to leave her husband because life with him was so boring, and then walk right into a situation that was even more boring. After all, how does one pass their time when they're alone at a motel?
I tried television.
Soap operas. They drove me nuts. Each one was more depressing than the last.
I didn't need such grief for entertainment when my own life was in shambles.
Game shows. Yeccccch. The people were so happy over winning prizes for the kitchen and house that were exactly like the kinds of things Bill had always bought me to keep me in my place as a good little wife.
"You fools!" I screamed at a bunch of housewives slobbering over a microwave oven on which they were all bidding on "The Price is Right".
How could they be so blind? Selling their souls for some electronic hunk of junk while love might be passing them by in their stultifying marriages.
In a rage, I got up and clicked off the set.
-Whew, I needed something to calm me down I decided I could do with a drink, even if it was before noon.
The motel had a cocktail lounge that was as dark inside as the sun was outside. I was surprised but grateful that it was open so early in the day.
"What'll it be, lady?" the bartender said after I found a stool in the darkness.
"Oh, I don't know," I said wearily. "What's popular?"
"Most of the women who come in here have Harvey Wall Bangers," he said. "Of course, they're a hard-drinking crew."
"Well, then give me one of those, I guess," I replied apathetically.. "Just so long as it's got some punch."
"Pronto," he said, and got to work mixing my drink. When I finally tried it, I was pleasantly surprised. It had a kick like a mule.
"Say," I said, feeling better already. "Did I hear you say that you have a lot of women coming in here?"
"Not exactly," the bartender said. "But we do"
"At this time of day?"
"Sure."
I took another slug of Harvey Wall Banger. It loosened my tongue even more.
"These women," I asked. "Why do they come into this place?"
"For the same reason you're here," the bartender grinned.
"But this place is so dark and dreary, " I said", gesturing at the gloominess that surrounded us.
"You just answered your own question."
"I don't understand."
He just shook his head and laughed, and walked away.
Feeling somehow rejected by the bartender, I felt lonely sitting at the bar. I took my drink and found a booth to sit in.
As I slid across the vinyl seat I suddenly felt my thigh bumping into something. Assuming I had hit the wall in the darkness, I looked up and found myself staring straight into a man's face.
"What are you drinking, baby?" he said as though he had been expecting me.
I was so stunned that all I could think to say to him was the truth. "A Harvey Wall Banger," I muttered self-consciously.
"Bartender," the,, guy called. "Another Wall Banger fox the little lady."
Then he turned to me and said, "You better drink up so you can get started on your next one. A man doesn't like to see his little presents to a lady go unused. Makes him feel like less of a man."
Part of me wanted to throw the drink in his clown's face. However, another part was so anxious that it forced me to pour the drink down my throat to calm my nerves.
Ignorant of my motivation, my new seat-mate was obviously pleased that I had done as he said. So pleased, in fact, that he thought it fitting to drape his arm over my shoulders.
By the time the bartender brought my fresh drink, the joker's fingers were dangling at the top of one of my breasts. The bartender looked at the position I was in, and just smiled.
As he turned around and walked away, it disturbed me that the smile had seemed very knowing.
It seemed like the only one who was really in the dark in his bar was me.
"Well, baby," the man who had bought me the drink recaptured my attention. "Drink your drink, and then let's start to dicker."
This was unreal. What in the world was this guy talking about?
Again, I took a drink as he said, but only as a coincidental means to keep myself from jumping out of my skin.
As it had previously, the alcohol in a Harvey Wall Banger settled me down. The effect was such a relief, that I downed the second drink like it was a glass of water.
"Wow, you really put those down, don't you, baby?" my benefactor said. "Now are you ready to talk?"
Talk about what?
"Gimme another drink, and then I'll talk," I said. As I slurred my words, I realized that I was half-lit.
I was glad to be getting drunk. The alcohol made me feel mellow as it increasingly took effect.
When the third drink came, I automatically tipped it to my lips and put down a big slug of it. As the booze hit my stomach, I felt even better than I had before.
Things were looking up, I decided in an alcoholic haze. At least I had somebody to talk to, even if it was a stranger in a dark bar. It was better than fighting with my all-too-familiar husband.
"Okay, now, baby," the guy next to me said. "Now you've got your extra drink. What do you say we get down to business?"
"What kind of business?" I giggled from the buzz in my head.
Without warning, he dropped his hand over my tit and squeezed.
"You know what kind of business, baby," he leered.
"What does my tit have to do with your business?" I asked with a drunken heedlessness. "Are you some kind of a bra salesman?"
He laughed but loud at what I'd said, practically puncturing my eardrum with his raucous blasts.
"Haw, that's a good 'un," he said, when he finally settled down.
"Are you a bra salesman?' she says. That's rich, baby."
"Well, then what are you?" I asked after another swallow of Harvey Wall Banger.
He was silent for a moment, obviously thinking. Then a big grin split his face as he came up with an answer.
"Let's just say," he chuckled softly, "that I'm in the panty business."
I sipped my drink and felt my head swirl.
"Oh, I see," I giggled. "You're not a bra salesman at all. You're a panty salesman."
"Right ... right," he grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Then why were you feeling my tits instead of my pussy?"
"Oh, baby," he gasped as his hand slid up my leg. "I'll give you anything you want."
Right now, I was just drunk and lonely enough to want his fingers on my cunt. I sighed with satisfaction as his hand slipped under the elastic of my panties and began fingering my bare pussy.
The squishing I heard from his manipulation told me that my box had gotten wet without me even realizing it. All of a sudden I became squirmingly aware that my snatch was sopping.
"Your fingers," I whispered urgently. "Slip them inside my pussy. Finger-fuck me. Make me come right here in this booth."
"Oh, baby, will I," he said.
While his thumb and pinky achingly pinched my pulsing clit, his middle three fingers slid inside my gooey twat. Immediately he started moving me back and forth. I could feel it all the way down to my toes.
Then, as he finger-fucked me, I heard his free hand fumbling around right next to me, apparently in his lap. When I heard an abrupt and brief whine I realized he was unzipping his fly.
The next thing I knew his bare cock was brushing against my arm. It was hard and long. Obviously he wanted me to play with it.
The idea of his prick twitching outside his pants didn't shock me. But the next thing he said did.
"Ten bucks right on the table for a hand-job," he panted, pushing his peter even more insistently my way.
I couldn't believe my ears.
"Twenty bucks," he gasped.
What kind of a woman did lie think I was?
"Thirty bucks," he sputtered. "It's all I can afford. I've fucked broads from this joint for less'n that."
Jesus Christ, he thought I was a hooker!
"Okay," he responded frantically to my silence. "Thirty-five ... but that's my last offer. You've got the wettest cunt I've ever felt, but I'm not one of the Rockefellers."
A whore!
Of course I'd heard and read my whole life about prostitutes. But reading about them was like reading about life in outer space. It was all like a fantasy to a normal housewife like myself. In my personal life, I'd never made any connection between sex and money.
Now, suddenly,, a strange man was offering me money for the favors of my body.
"Forty," he wheezed. "It's my absolute tops." All that money for just jacking him off while he played with my pussy. The idea of getting paid for something so simple was quite intriguing, especially with two and a half Harvey Wall Bangers boggling my system.
"Fifty," I said on impulse. "Fifty dollars, and not a cent more."
"For just a hand-job?" he wailed.
"No, a blow-job," I smiled in the dark. "And for ten extra, I'll swallow."
"Farrrr-out!" he rasped excitedly. Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and slapped the money on the table.
It took several seconds for the impact of the green bills spread across the table to fully register with me. I just sat and stared at them.
"Is there something wrong with my money?" he asked impatiently.
"Correction," I turned and said to him. "Not your money ... my money."
As though it were an innate female reflex, I grabbed the bills off the table and shoved them down my blouse between my breasts. The crinkly paper felt good tickling against my sensitive tit-flesh.
"Okay, baby," he said once the transaction was-fully completed, "start sucking."
I'd learned enough from my part-time jobs to know that the customer is always right. Leaning over, I wrapped my lips around his throbbing tool and began fucking my mouth with it.
His prick was a big one. And sweet. It was oh, so hard.
I was so horny for it the minute I tasted it, that it was lucky for me the bargaining process was over. At this point, I would have paid him the sixty dollars just for the opportunity of mouthing his delicious hard-on.
As I stroked his dick with my clutching lips, my customer accelerated his digital gouging of my pussy. His Fingers surged further and further into my cunt until they were touching places that drove me wild.
Needless to say, my wildness manifested itself most pertinently in what my mouth was doing. Every thrust up my cunt netted the owner of the probing fingers a more extreme oral twist around his lip-fucking cock.
For all practical purposes, I had two pussies now. The regular one between my legs, crammed to the hilt with a stranger's hand; and one right in the center of my face: engorged with a hot, throbbing cock.
Orgasm had started in each.
Naturally, my cunt had started rumbling in the beginning throes of release the instant the stranger's fingers had hit its wet folds. But now my oral cavity was spasming, too. It was his cock-head down my throat that did it.
Both of my holes were as wet as they could be.
And my boyfriend knew it. His fingers and cock were squishing and slurping like a couple of wet seals making love.
I sucked his dick harder and harder. Deeper and deeper. The more damp noise my mouth and pussy made, the homier I got.
The more we went at each, other, the more turned on I got. Increasingly it became obvious that mere fingers and mouths would not do.
"Oh, baby," the guy moaned, "I love your cunt. Do you like my cock?"
I let his prick slide out of my mouth. My own saliva drooled down my chin.
He didn't know it yet, but taking his dick out of my mouth was the answer to his question.
"What's the matter, baby?" he blurted when he saw I was through blowing him. "You promised to suck all the way until you swallowed. What's going on here?"
"Fuck me," I said tersely.
"But you got so much of my money, I can't afford a room," he protested.
"Fuck me right here."
"Holy fuckin' Mother of God," he hissed in wonder. "Who'd have ever thought the morning would turn out like this?"
While he was still full of joy, I pulled his hand out of my panties, and crawled up on his lap. When I felt his hard-on rubbing against my crotch, I slipped it under the elastic of my panty-leg and maneuvered it toward my bare pussy.
Before I knew it, he was inside of me. Fucking me.
"Harder, harder," I begged. "Fuck me harder."
"Your cunt is so tight," he panted feverishly. "It's hard to force it in all the way. I'm doing the best I can."
Helping him out, I ground my pelvis into his lap. Slowly but surely, I could feel the barb of his cock-head pushing aside tissue and advancing into the depths of my fuck-hole.
"There, that's it," I finally expressed my satisfaction. "I can feel you all the way inside me. Your prick feels so gooood in my cunt."
The alcohol had hit me again, and I was swaying on top of the stranger's pussy-stuffing dick. "So goooood," I crooned drunkenly. "So fucking gooood.".
While he was fucking me, I just had to reach down and feel his balls. They were churning inside his open fly, working overtime to manufacture the sperm that I craved.
I squeezed his nuts to stimulate even more jizz. When he finally came I wanted all of the wonderful goo I could get up my hungry snatch.
When I thought he was only seconds away from coming, I slid my hand under his scrotum and attacked his asshole. Sticking my finger inside, I began wiggling it like a vibrator.
At the same time, I used my free hand to clasp his forearm and slide his fingers under my panties. "My ass," I rasped as I worked my fingers in his for emphasis. "Stick your finger in my asshole, and then pull it out when we start to come."
I winced with pleasure as he followed my orders. His index fingers reamed my anus all the way to the rear of its tight, wet tunnel.
Now I really started to fuck my pussy with his prick. The walls of my cunt tightened like a noose around his joy-stick, forcing it to blow its top.
Just as the semen gushed to the head of his cock, I swirled my finger around in his ass, and then popped it out. Simultaneously, he did the same thing to me.
The departure of our fingers opened the floodgates of his prick. Hot spunk spewed from its mouth. My cunt was immediately full of it.
My cash-and-carry lover was moaning and groaning as his cock spurted thick globs of cum into my snatch. I was doing the same thing. Orgasm ripped my body so that I felt like a palm frond in the wind.
CHAPTER ONE
What a fuck, I thought as the interior of my cunt got wetter and wetter. The money between my tits made it twice as good-almost as though it represented an extra hard-on caressing my body.
"Oh, do it to me ... do it to me!" I practically sang as his cock kept shooting in my pussy. "Fill--my cunt with cum until it comes running down my legs."
The redundancy of my request was immediately apparent. Excess sperm was already oozing out of my box and drenching my thighs. A few seconds later I was sitting in a pool of it.
We continued grooving on each other's groins until long past the time my boyfriend had stopped ejaculating. When his dick started to finally grow limp, I slipped off his lap and plopped down in a swamp of fuck-juice with a sigh.
"You gonna be here, tomorrow, baby?" he said a few moments later as he zipped up his fly.
"That's for me to know and you to find out," I said tauntingly, and then slid out of the booth and stood up. I soothed down the sticky front of my dress and walked away.
For the first time in days I felt good about myself again. The next time I started to get blue, I'd just take a look at that sixty dollars.
It was a cinch that I'd never spend a cent of it. It was too valuable for my ego.
CHAPTER TEN
As it turned out, however, euphoria was short lived. When Jim Brown still hadn't returned to the employment agency, and I was still without a job, I couldn't help but get discouraged.
Then a green sheet of paper somebody slipped under my door after a few days made things even worse. It was the motel bill, and it was about three times what I'd expected.
I had some money saved up, but not enough to keep paying thirty dollars a day for a room. Even with the sixty I'd gotten from the guy in the bar, I was going to be broke before I knew it. If I didn't think of something quickly, I'd be forced to slink back home with my tail between my legs.
Searching for some kind of inspiration, as I had done so often lately, I took out the stranger's sixty dollars to look at. I'd handled it so much by now that it was creased and wrinkled.
The more I looked at it, the more I thought of two things: how I had gotten the money in the first place ... and how much more of it I needed to survive until Jim Brown got back in town.
I didn't have to be a mathematical genius to put two and two together. If I wanted more money, I had no choice but to go out and get it the same way I'd gotten the first sixty.
All of a sudden I realized I had myself a new part-time job.
Whore!
I put on a short, clinging dress over no panties or bra, and left my room for the motel bar. However, when I got there, I saw that it was closed. A big guy in a suit that was too small for him was standing in front of the locked door.
"Can I help you, lady?" he said when he saw how surprised I was.
"I was just ... just planning to have a drink in the bar," I said uncertainly, apprehensive about something in the man before me.
"You were just planning to have a drink in the bar, huh?" he said, jolting me with the sarcasm in his voice.
"Uh ... yes ... yes...." I muttered. "!s there something wrong with that?"
"Do you know who I am?" he said officiously.
"No ... I'm afraid I don't."
"Well, anybody in your line of work should," he said, and flashed a badge in front of me. "Lieutenant Ayers of the Vice Squad. This dump was closed just an hour ago after a raid. It was just crawling with hookers. It's a good thing you overslept. I always say, if you can't be smart, be lucky."
"No ... no...." I stammered self-consciously, my face burning with embarrassment., "You've got me all wrong."
"Go on," he growled out of the corner of his mouth. "Get outta here before I run you in, you little tramp. Go hawk your wares someplace else. We got our quota for the night."
I couldn't believe this, was happening to me. However, I could certainly believe the badge shining in my. face, and the contemptuous sneer the cop wore like a second means of identification.
Turning around, I ran out of there, not stopping until I was out in the street. Only when I caught my breath did I realize that I was standing at a taxi-stand.
I didn't want to go back to my room. I was so spooked that I was afraid the cop would follow me, and notify the management when he found out I was staying there. When I was evicted it would come out I didn't have enough money to pay the bill, and I'd be in even more trouble.
My best bet was to keep right on going.
"Taxi, lady?" a cabbie called out his window as he pulled up alongside of me.
"Yes," I said, and hopped in.
"Where you wanna go, lady?" he asked as he gunned the motor.
"Anyplace there're a lot of men," I said blatantly.
"I read you, lady," he chuckled and shot the car from the curb.
When he dropped me off in front of a gaudily lighted place on the outskirts of town he wished me good luck.
"Actually," he said, as I paid the fare. "I'da saved you the trip over here, hut I ain't got the bread for a classy dame like you. Guess I'll have to stick it to my old lady 'til a better job comes along."
As he roared away, I blessed him for making me feel so much better with his compliment. That Vice Squad cop had tried to make me feel like slime. The cabbie had made me proud to be a woman again.
The name of the place where I had been dropped was the Gearshifter's Lounge. Huge rigs all over the parking lot told me that it was a trucker's hangout.
I'd been reading a lot about truck drivers lately, what with the C.B. craze and all, but in my suburban existence I'd had very little experience with them. About the only thing I could remember was being passed by them on the highway.
As I walked toward the Lounge, I wondered what truckers were actually like. And, most of all, I wondered if they had money to spend.
The minute I was inside I knew I had come to the right place. The bar was crawling with big, rugged men. And from the way they were screaming at the naked go-go dancer twitching her bare ass in front of them, they were horny as hell.
I didn't even bother to order a drink. Stopping at the first table I came to, I sat down next to a guy in a blue windbreaker and put my hand in his crotch.
"How about a date for tonight, buddy?" I whispered lewdly in his ear as I rubbed his cock and balls through his jeans. It had all happened so fast, he almost jumped out of his chair.
"Hey ... hey...." he sputtered. "What the hell's going on?"
"Oh, a little bit of this, and a little bit of that," I said calmly with a handful of nuts.
"If you don't cut it out," he panted, "you're going to make me come in my pants."
"Then let me take your cock out," I said in a tone of voice redolent with practicality. "It'll only cost you twenty."
He slapped the money on the table so fast that it seemed he must have had it concealed against his palm all along.
"Suck me, baby, suck me," he started to moan even before my fingers hit his zipper. "Suck me real good."
His prick lurched out of his fly like the blade of a push-button knife. I bent it under the table, and joined it with my descending mouth.
I sucked his cock like crazy, knowing that the more male rocks I got off tonight, the more money I'd walk out of this place with.
And I was definitely money-hungry.
Of course, in my new line of work, it helped to be cock-hungry, too.
His prick stabbed deeper and deeper down my throat. Then, as I started my upward stroke, I banged my head on the underside of the table.
"Don't stop ... don't stop," the guy said urgently from above. "Keep fucking me with your mouth, I'm just about ready to come. I'll hold the table down with my hand."
Anxious to get it over with so I could move on to my next customer, I pumped furiously up and down his cock. I was so excited about my first taste of cum of the evening that I just ignored the fact that my pistoning head was now beating a tattoo on the bottom of the table.
Pulsating with arousal, the prick thrust an extra inch down my gullet and then erupted. Jizz poured into my stomach like malted-milk. It was delicious. But I couldn't linger. I literally couldn't afford to.
There were too many cocks to be sucked and too much money to be made to stay in one spot.
While the guy's dork was still dripping, I slid it out of my mouth and bid him goodbye through cum-flecked lips. His cock was semi-hard and still hanging out of his pants when I left.
I found another table with two guys at it, and sat in a third chair across from them. Their backs were turned as they watched the go-go dancer. Catching my breath, I wiped some cum off my face with the back of my hand, and eavesdropped on their appreciation.
"Look at the pussy on that broad," one of the men said to the other, pointing toward the dancer's snatch. "I dream about a big, hairy mother like that about half the time I'm in my rig."
"Yeah, so do I," his friend rasped. "How'd you' like to have a piece of meat like that right next to you, so you could just do whatever you wanted when you craved it?"
"Shit,-I'd never get any driving done," the first guy said. "I'd just pull up into a truck stop and fuck and suck all night long."
"Me, too," his friend said. "I get so horny on the road, sometimes, that I'm even ready for some of my old lady's gash. I swear, if the old bag were there I'd rape the shit out of her."
It was easy to see why their minds were so focused on cunts. The dancer had a beautiful jet-black bush, and glistening pink pussy Ups that contrasted with it startlingly. Her snatch even turned me on.
"God, I'd like to have that down here at this table," one of the guys said, ogling the dancer's flexing honey-pot while she did a back-bend on stage.
"Me, too," the other one slurped.
I was tired of this. She had a great-looking box, but mine was just as groovy.
And juicy. Right now my cunt was soaking wet from watching the dancer, and hearing these guys talk about pussies. It was time for these jokers to put up or shut up, to my way of thinking.
The next time one of them started yakking about pussy, I reached under the table, grabbed his arm, and placed his hand on mine. When the guy gulped from the sudden feel of my wet meat, and his partner asked what was wrong, I snatched the second guy and let him join his friend for an unexpected feel.
Mumbling in wonder to themselves, they looked around to see what in the world was going on. They were so excited their eyes glowed in the dark.
"Twenty apiece is all it costs, fellas," I said evenly. "For that, I crawl under the table, and you get both of your cocks in my mouth at once."
"Do you swallow?" they asked in unison.
"Does five come before six?"
Slap, slap. The money was on the table.
After I'd stuffed it down my blouse, I was under the table.
They turned their chairs so they were facing me, and I got to work. I opened both of their flies simultaneously, pulling one of their zippers down with my left hand, and the other with the right. Their pricks came out with very little effort, and soon I was licking their throbbing crowns.
"O ., man, this is great," one guy said to another as I inserted both of their cock-heads in my mouth at the same time, just as I had advertised.
"Better than a cunt," the other one moaned.
And, speaking from a woman's point of view, two cocks were better than one.
There was no way, of course, I could put both dicks all the way in. However, I could certainly do my best.
Six inches was not the hilt, but for two tools at once, it was pretty damn good. I know I was satisfied as I munched away on my double-decked tube-burger.
Fortunately for my money-making plans, these guys were not destined to hold on for too long. The go-go dancer had gotten all hot and bothered in preparation for me, and I had set them ablaze.
The flames of their cum licked down my throat as their cocks breathed fire. Smoke was practically coming out of my nostrils their jizz was so scorching. The temperature of each flow of seminal lava seemed to double the level of the other. The inside of my mouth was so hot that my spit was bubbling.
Gulping wildly, so I wouldn't choke to death, I tried to clear the gunk out of my breathing apparatus by swallowing as much of it as I could. By the time I was through drinking cum, I had enough starch inside me to start my own laundry.
They finally stopped spurting, and I gave them back their cocks and left. I could see them still looking around for me under their table by the time I was zeroing in on somebody else.
And this one was the best one yet.
I sat down right next to a guy who was so turned on by the floorshow that he had his cock out and was beating his meat.
A perfect set-up, I thought like a hardened old pro.
Before he knew what was going on, I'd pushed his hand away and had replaced it around his prick with my clutching fingers. I began beating him off much better than he could ever pull his own meat.
At the same time, I reached around his ass with my free hand and picked his pocket. He was so wound up in getting jerked off that he never noticed my beginner's clumsiness.
When I had his wallet safely out, I accelerated my strokes, and soon had his cock-head gasping from its little mouth. As the first drop of cum appeared, I threw my mouth over it and swallowed every drop.
Then, before he could even figure out what had happened, I was gone.
Taking a rest, I sat at an empty table and counted the contents of the sucker's wallet. Ninety ... a hundred ... a hundred and ten ... Wow, I'd hit the jackpot! A few more scores like this and I'd be back at the motel in bed in time to watch the "Tonight Show".
Before I dove back into action, I decided to take a longer look at this dancer that was driving all these men nuts. I ordered a drink, and when it was delivered sat back and sipped and made an honest appraisal of my competition.
She was a knock-out, all right. Her tits were perfect, and her flossy pussy was even better. If I was a man I'd want to fuck her. In fact, as a woman I wouldn't have minded going to bed with her.
It didn't take me long to figure out that her mouth-watering body was no hindrance to any plans I had. As long as she was flashing those tits, and that cunt, and that ass at these gorillas, they would pay through the nose to get their rocks off. I felt like she was my spiritual sister up there.
When I looked at her tits, my own pair tingled under my clinging dress.
Her nipples were red with excitement, while mine throbbed.
The light glistened from her bush. Her pussy was obviously wet. Not as wet as mine.
She turned around and briefly bent over so the audience could see her perfectly sculpted ass. At the same time mine wriggled in my chair, damp with pussy juice.
I was so turned on by now that I couldn't watch any more. What I needed was some action.
Finding the first guy I could that was alone, I just plopped myself down in his lap.
"What do you want?" he gulped.
"A quick fuck," I said matter-of-factly. I was tired of just having these dorks shoved down my throat when my pussy was so hungry.
"Right here?" he said in astonishment.
"It couldn't be any dirtier than what's going on up there." I pointed to the dancer onstage.
"No, no," he shook his head. "If I fuck you in here and get caught, I'll be eighty-sixed from this place. We'll have to do it in my truck."
"It'll cost you plenty," I informed him, softening my message by tweaking his cock and balls through his pants.
"Just name your price, little lady," he said eagerly.
"My prick's so hard it's about to tear through my fly."
And it was, too. I could feel it coiling like a snake in my grip.
"A hundred." I shot for the moon.
"Do you know how to do it in the cab of a truck?" he panted.
"Is there any other way?" I answered sultrily, and he loved it. The hundred dollars was safely between my tits before we got up from the table.
However, I could see why he wanted to be sure that I knew what I was doing when we got to his truck. The cab was only about as big as the front seat of a car, and was going to require a lot of contortions on my part to earn my money.
As we climbed in, he explained to me that he couldn't fuck in the trailer because it was refrigerated. "Full of rump roasts," he said. "Got it turned down to just above freezing. This here is cramped, but it's cozy."
That I had to agree with. Once we were inside and my dress was up and his cock was out, I saw that the only way we were going to be able to manage it a hundred dollars worth was for me to get up on the dash and slide down the steering wheel. ,When I did just that, his stiff cock was waiting to break my fall, and plugged my cunt to the hilt immediately.
He was so horny that he came in me almost immediately. I had a mild thrill from it, but I wanted a lot more.
"Keep it hard," I instructed him. "I'm passing out bonuses tonight."
Working quickly, I grabbed the crossbar of the steering wheel and hoisted myself up. When his wet cock pulled out of me, I saw with satisfaction that it was still twitching with enough erectness for what I had in mind.
Slowly, painstakingly, I began my second descent down the wheel. This wasn't as simple as just plugging my cunt. This had to be done exactly right.
As I slipped downward I could feel the corrugated bumps of the finger-grips gouging into the cheeks of my ass. The feeling went straight to my anus and made it drool. I was glad of that.
The nearer I got to his cock, the more instinctively it gravitated toward the wide slit of my cunt. Seeing this project would require a firm hand, I reached down and guided the now rock-hard organ an extra notch down my body.
When I felt the head of his prick flattening against my asshole I knew I had handled things just right. Trembling with anticipation, I laced my fingers under my buns and pulled my ass apart. My tight shit-hole sprang open to twice its normal diameter, creating an opening just big enough for the end of a cock to fit into.
The first inch was the hardest. He couldn't get away now-and, of course, he didn't want to.
Wriggling my hips, I agonizingly swallowed his standing meat with my spasming asshole. No matter how far I spread my cheeks it was still a tight fit-but as far as I was concerned, the tighter the better as long as I got it all in.
Now his cock was reaming five inches inside my shit-pit. Then six ... seven....
"Ooooomph!" I grunted, bearing down.
"Eight inches.
"Ooooh, God, trucker, fuck me in the ass! Fuck me all the way!"
Nine inches.
"Drive your cock inside me, trucker! Drive it in!"
Ten inches.
There were ten throbbing inches of-thick cock crammed to the hilt in my anal love-hole. I was sitting on the truck driver's balls. I could feel them pulsating against the inside of my buns. This time when he came I'd feel every splashing drop of it. With his prick crammed to the nuts in my asshole, I was ready for anything.
"Unnhhh ... unnnnhhh ... unnnnnhhh...." I ground away, wringing his dick like a wet towel. My bunghole was as tight as a ten-year-old's pussy. No man could resist coming in it.
Here it came! I could feel the jism rushing up his shaft from his balls.
"Oh, scald me, scald me!" I cried, wanting to feel the thrill of his cum from the tips of my toes to the follicles in my scalp.
Splash! The cum sloshed into my ass. It filled my colon immediately and then backed up out my shit-tunnel.
The tight orifice of my anus acted like the end of a garden-hose. With a cock plugged up it, it was sort of like putting my thumb over the nozzle while I was watering the lawn. The wetness came spraying out, showering in all directions.
Before either of us could react, the cab of the truck was spattered with the driver's own cum. I looked to my left and saw the rear-view mirror completely obscured, dripping with cream.
I didn't care if we drowned in our own juices. By now I was coming so hard myself that all I could think about was orgasm, orgasm, orgasm.
When my partner was finally finished, and his cock began to wilt, I stayed longer with him than I had the others. I had decided his was the last prick of the evening, and I wanted to savor its penetration to the very end. Only when I had come all I was capable of coming did I pull his cock out of my ass and complete the magnificent buggering.
"Thanks for the fucking," he said when I was leaving. "I'll never forget it."
"All in a night's work," I answered like an old pro, and jumped down from the cab and disappeared into the night.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Oh, Jim, I'm so glad you're back," I said gratefully into the phone. "You don't know the trouble I've had to go to keeping body and soul together while you were out of town."
"Well, it couldn't be helped," he said apologetically. "Now, what's this message I've got here that you want to talk to me about full-time work?"
"I've left my husband," I explained. "I've got to have a job to support myself. I managed all right while you were gone, but I need something permanent for the long-run that's a little less ,chancy."
"Just what were you up to, anyway, Sheila?" he laughed.
"Keeping body and soul together," I giggled back, "just like I told you. Ask me no more questions, and I'll tell you no lies."
"Oh, wow, Sheila," he said, after a hard-breathing pause. "It turns me on just to talk to you over the phone. I missed you while I was gone. My offer for you to work as my assistant still holds."
"I appreciate it, Jim," I answered, after quickly considering his proposition, "but I feel it's important that I make it strictly on my own. No offense intended, but I didn't leave my husband just to walk right under the thumb of the next man down the road."
"Okay, okay," he said disappointedly, "but we're going to have some problems if you decide to go this independence router"
"Explain," I said impatiently.
"In case you've forgotten, Sheila, you still don't know how to do anything except that thing I can't mention over the phone because there are people around who might overhear."
"But what about all the part-time jobs I've had?" I protested. "I've gotten good references on everyone. Even that one from Emerson School where I was the librarian."
"That's just it," he explained. "It was all part-time stuff. Employers enjoy a little, uh, action, when they know it's just for a few days and it won't hurt them."
"But if a little is good, then a lot is terrific," I reasoned.
"Not in the business world," he slapped me in the face with reality. "Their bottom-line is dollars and cents, and not ... not...."
"Tits and ass," I completed his sentence for him. "Precisely."
"What'll I do?" I wailed.
"Learn to type."
"Ugh."
"Then come to work for me," he suggested again.
"No thanks, Jim," I said firmly, "I've got my pride. I'll learn to type."
"But it'll take weeks," he pointed out.
"I'll manage somehow."
When I hung up from talking to Jim, I called up the first secretarial school I could find in the phone book and enrolled in an accelerated .office course. In addition to typing, it included short-hand and bookkeeping.
By day, I threw myself into my studies, learning everything I could to be an efficient secretary. The hard work was worth it because, not only did I pick up what I needed to know to make a respectable living, I was so busy I forgot all about my troubles with Bill.
By night, I led a completely different life. In order to pay for someplace to stay and food on my table, not to mention the business school tuition, I had to work my butt off as a free-lance hooker. At first it was fun; but after a while it got to be such hard work that even I was getting tired of fucking and sucking strange cocks.
The closer I got to the end of my school-term, the more I started craving some stability in my life. As I approached the verge of my independence, it seemed that I had paradoxically come full-circle.
But I would never think of contacting Bill. He was out of my life as far as I was concerned.
And with my new craving for stability, I continued to ignore Jim's offer to be his so-called assistant. I knew all he was interested in was sex from me-and with his wife and kiddies at home, I would never be anything more than his plaything.
As a matter-of-fact, where. I was ready to try for a full-time job, I decided to bypass Jim, my old benefactor, entirely. Instead I selected the squarest-looking middle-aged woman counselor I could find and asked to take every typing and short-hand test she could throw at me.
I passed every one of them with flying colors.
"My, my, Mrs. Smith," the woman said, "you're quite a find. I think we can place you without the slightest bit of trouble."
"Well, I'd like to begin working as quickly as possible," I said.
"Then you could start tomorrow," she said. "I have a job here for an office that needs a girl so badly that they just instructed us to select someone ourselves and send her over."
"You mean that anyone you pick automatically has the job?" I asked expectantly.
"Exactly," she said. "Of course this job doesn't pay as well as some that might come up. However, if you need the work quickly...."
"I do, I do," I interrupted.
"Then I'll send you over there the first thing tomorrow morning," she smiled. "I'm sure you'll do fine."
"Thank you, thank you," I gushed appreciatively. "You don't know how much this means to me.
"Here's the address," she said, handing me a slip of paper. "Your new employer will be expecting you tomorrow at nine a.m. I'm sure he'll be very happy to see you, Mrs. Smith."
Not as happy as I'll be to see him, I thought.
Wow, I was so happy as I left the agency. I was sure that I was finally on my way to a new life.
That night in the apartment I'd recently rented I sat and dreamed about my new career. I folded and unfolded the address of my new job, unable to believe how lucky I was to get it. I was so excited that it didn't even bother me that I had neglected to find out exactly what kind of business it was.
Oh, well, I told myself, an office is an office. How many different things can you do with a typewriter and a pad and pencil, anyway?
The next day I purposely dressed in my most conservative attire. Armed with my newly learned secretarial skills, I was determined to see if I could make it in the business world without having to rely on sex as my only asset.
This was a new day, as far as I was concerned. From now on when I had sex, it was going to be only because I wanted to. In the long run, fucking to get ahead would only make me a nervous wreck. Before I knew it, all the tension and the cum down my throat would give me ulcers if I didn't stop.
The address was on the other side of town. When the cab let me out I was surprised to see myself staring at an insurance agency.
What a coincidence, I thought. I wondered if Bill still had enough sense of humor to have gotten a kick out of my new job had he known of it.
Some day, after I was settled, I'd have to call up my ex-husband and tell him we were both in the insurance business now.
Some day. But not now. I had to go in and meet my new boss.
I hadn't even seen the name of the place before I walked inside. I'd approached it from an angle, and another building was cutting off the front of the sign, so all I could tell was that it was an insurance agency without knowing the name of the owner.
Naturally, I was curious about the interior of the place. Even though I had been married to a man in the insurance business, I had never been inside an agency before. Bill had always insisted that his office was his turf alone.
So this is what he was hiding, I thought as I looked around the waiting room. Big deal, I laughed to myself, I'll stand this place on its ear. Working in a place like this was going to be the best way I could find to indirectly stick it to my estranged mate once and for all.
In fact, I was .thinking about Bill so much that it didn't even surprise me at first when he came out of an office and walked toward me.
"I assume you're our new ... our new...." His words bubbled up in his throat and he abruptly turned as white as a sheet.
"Bill!" I blurted, the full impact of his familiar face hitting me like a right to the temple. "What are you doing here?"
"I might ask you the same question, Sheila," he managed to say.
"The employment agency sent me," I explained. "But they didn't tell me the name of my new boss."
"And they didn't tell me the name of my new employee," he said. "I need a secretary in here, not a wife."
"It just so happens that I've become a competent typist and stenographer," I reacted defensively. "If I wanted to, I could perform quite adequately for you."
"How can we work together, Sheila, when we couldn't even live together?" he wailed in exasperation. "I'm just going to have to call up that agency and have them send over another girl."
I certainly didn't want to spend eight hours a day with my ex-husband. But, on the other hand, I
-wanted even less to wait for another job to come along. I had emotionally prepared myself to start working today, and I wasn't psychologically equipped to postpone it when I had put so much into arriving lit this threshold.
I had crossed a threshold once before with Bill, and it hadn't worked. But maybe if we tried it a second time-as boss and employee rather than husband and wife-it would work out.
I was willing to try, and swallowed my pride and told him so.
He shook his head, finally turning his palms up in the air in a gesture of bewilderment and saying, "You win. What else can I do? We haven't had a girl in here in weeks, and the auditors are coming in next week to look at the books on those debentures I was telling you about the night before we ... we...."
"Split," I said solemnly.
"Right," he gulped from the memory. "Anyway, there can't be any more delay. Someone who knows what they're doing has got to straighten out the files and the books or the agency will be in trouble."
"Then I'm hired?" I said expectantly.
"If you're as trained as you say you are, Sheila,-why not? I'm in no position to quibble. I'm being held responsible for everything, and if I don't straighten things out Mr. North is liable to fire me and replace me with his son-in-law."
"That rat!" I blurted, suddenly feeling sorry for Bill. "After how hard you've worked...."
"Save it," he smiled wanly. "That's just business. If you work here, my advice to you is keep your nose out of office politics and you'll last longer. After all, you may have to get along with North's son-in-law after I'm long gone if this mess isn't straightened out quickly."
"Don't talk like that, Bill," I couldn't help myself from saying. "Where's the old super confidence?"
"Down the drain, I'm afraid," he said wistfully. "Along with my marriage."
It was so sad to see him like this. For the first time in months I found myself feeling tenderness for him.
However, I shook it off, and suggested we get to work. He was pleased by my diligence and immediately began showing me what needed to be done.
The books were a mess, and the files were even worse. Nothing had been done with any order. It was apparent that the agency had lacked a woman's touch for some time.
For three days we were as busy as beavers. Even though we were up to our necks in work, Bill and I got along better than we ever had since we'd first met in high school. The change in our relationship from when he spent all day at the office and I spent all day at home was striking. Miraculously, in an equal partnership, we were enormously compatible.
Back in my apartment at night, I wondered if Bill felt the same way about things as I did. It was hard to tell because he was so intensely absorbed in getting the office straightened up for the auditors. I longed to discuss my feelings with him, but I was afraid to inject a personal note into the situation when we were getting along so well on a business basis.
Then, in the late afternoon of the fourth day of constant work, Bill suddenly shocked me by throwing a sheaf of papers up in the air and yelling at the top of his lungs. I wondered if he'd finally flipped out from the strain.
"Bill, are you all right?" I asked concernedly.
"Am I all right?" he asked rhetorically. "Hell, I'm just about perfect!"
"I don't understand."
"We're finished!" he exclaimed. "These ledger sheets you prepared for me show that everything matches up perfectly now. We finished over two days ahead of schedule. The auditors won't be here until Monday. That gives us a whole weekend to celebrate."
"Together?" I asked expectantly.
"Of course," he exulted. "I couldn't have gotten my neck out of this noose without you, Shelia. What do you want to do first. Go out to dinner? Get tickets to a show? What'll it be?"
I just looked at him. I didn't see just a man there, I saw my past, present and future flashing before my eyes. Bill didn't know it, but I felt the burden of the heaviest decision of my life on my shoulders.
"Well, Sheila, what'll it be?" he repeated.
What'll it be? What'll it be? What'll it be! Bill's question echoed repeatedly in my mind.
Then, suddenly, a tingling sensation coursed through my body and I knew I had made my decision.
"What'll it be?" he reiterated.
"A long, slow fuck," I told him.
He gulped like he had just swallowed a coat hanger sideways.
"I want a long ... slow ... fuck," I told him again, only this time I emphasized the words by sensuously drawing them out. I wanted a ... long ... slow ... fuck from my husband more than anything else in the world right now.
Unfortunately, my proposal was so shocking to Bill that I'd have probably achieved the same result by hiring a professional boxer to punch him in the jaw. It was obvious that if anything was going to be accomplished around here, I was going to have to take the initiative.
Without any further ado, I walked across the room and dropped to my knees in front of Bill. Before he could move, my fingers were clutching the tab of his zipper and I was pulling it down. I reached inside his open trousers, grabbing for the cock I hadn't seen for so long.
When I got it out, I saw I had thrown such a shock into him that Bill's prick was still soft. Where, in the past, I had been frustrated and hurt by his lack of arousal, now I saw it as a worthy challenge. I wanted to make his dick hard as efficiently as I had balanced his books.
Pulling out his testicles, I put the whole thing in my mouth-cock and balls. It was a big load for my mouth, but perfect when it came to providing suction. Almost immediately his nuts began to pulse, and his prick to stir.
"Oh, Sheila," Bill moaned apprehensively as his cock started to grow down my throat. "Are you sure we should be doing this?"
I answered by sucking harder, and putting my hand in his pants and sliding my finger up his crack. Penetrating his asshole, I pushed down against his prostate and felt his dick grow an extra couple of inches in my mouth.
Of all the cocks I'd sucked lately, Bill's was by far the best. I was surprised to realize that the best meat had been at home all along. His prick grew and grew until it was as hard as a rock.
I had to let his balls out now. My mouth and throat were filled with almost a foot of hot, throbbing male gristle.
It was wonderful. I felt like I was on my honeymoon.
While I squeezed his nuts with one hand, and played with his ass with the other, I moved my head up and down on his stiff cock like a piston. With his foreskin seized between my teeth, I fucked him with my mouth from the tip of his prick to his balls, going up and down on him in a blur.
His dick was palpitating with desire. Up above, his ' mouth was grunting sensual incoherencies. There was no doubt about it: Bill was on the verge of coming.
I'd started off sucking his joint to arouse him for a straight fuck. But the excitement of his throbbing cock between my lips had caused me to alter my plans some. Before we did anything else, I wanted him to come in my mouth.
I reamed my knotted finger around in his asshole. I squeezed his balls. I sucked like mad.
I did everything I could possibly do to make him come.
And it worked! Hot jizz cascaded down my throat in a sudden explosion. His cock-head was spewing goo like a volcano belching molten lava.
Sperm poured down my gullet and invaded the cavity of my abdomen. My belly seemed to bloat with it, as bucket after bucket of male goo was thrown down my oral chute.
However, it was after Bill stopped coming that the biggest shock occurred. Incredibly, even though he had just ejaculated a pint of cum, his prick was still as stiff as a board.
Before we'd split up, he'd been averaging a single, one-shot erection every two weeks. Now, after just having wetly fucked my mouth, his cock was as fresh as a daisy.
And as hard as a rock.
I pulled my face away from his tool and fell back onto the floor. With my knees up in the air, I pulled my dress up over my parted thighs. Bill's eyes bugged out from the sight of my cunt bulging through the crotch of my clinging, wet panties.
I put my hands under my skirt and rolled the sodden panties off my hips. When they were down my legs, I kicked them away. They plopped moistly in a comer.
Now my cunt was fully exposed. It was wide-open. Soaking wet.
"Fuck me, Bill!" I begged. "Stick your big, hard cock in my pussy and make me your wife again."
It was a proposal he couldn't resist. His throbbing peter led him straight to my juicy cunt like a nail going to a magnet. When he lowered his loins into the well of my crotch, I thought I would die of happiness.
I wrapped my hand around Bill's shaft and expertly guided his twitching cock-head between the sucking lips of my cunt. When the end of his prick was securely imbedded, I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled his body toward me. Full penetration was immediate. With a single thrust he was fucking me to the hilt.
I whimpered with joy as he started moving his dick back and forth within my stretching fuck-hole. His cock was harder than steel and hotter than fire. It felt like it was going to split me in two as he pumped me more and more furiously. My ass rolled recklessly as his muscle of love rubbed against the walls of my vise-like cunt.
"Oh, God!" I cried. "Keep fucking me! Keep fucking me as hard as you can! Oh, God, Bill, it hurts so good!"
He responded by grinding even harder in me. His stiff, gouging prick was causing unbelievable friction in all the right places.
"That's the way!" I cried. "Keep your cock going inside me! Give it to me, please, I've got to have every inch of it fucking me! Ooooh, that's good. Sooo goood!"
Increasing the ante, I slid my hand between the tangle of our bodies and began to clutch his balls. I wanted him to really explode. I wanted every drop of cum he had to be sucked up by my ravenous cunt.
Then I felt he was ready, and so was I. His breathing became more labored. He penetrated even further as he grabbed me by the cheeks of my ass and pulled my body so close to his we seemed as one.
I could feel his cock choking with jism and ready to blow. Just when I sensed he was going to erupt, I stabbed my finger to the last knuckle up his asshole. With that, his prick suddenly lurched and an onslaught of cum flowed into my cunt. My orgasm was like a blinding flash, taking me to the edge of unconsciousness and back again several times within a few seconds.
God, how Bill's cock was gushing. It was fantastic. He had never lathered my pussy like this in all the time we were married. He hadn't been this wet even when we were dating.
His prick had penetrated me so completely that I could feel his jizz splashing into my womb. Stimulated to the ultimate by the hot slosh of Bill's cream, my uterus convulsed moistly within me like another pussy. Incredibly, I was experiencing orgasms in two places at once.
But it still wasn't enough. The second Bill's cock stopped squirting, my mind was busy planning a new penetration.
Yes, there was a hole left on my body, and I was determined to have it fucked.
A tight hole. Very tight.
And increasingly wet inside, as though it were begging for a prick to slide up it.
A tight, wet hole.
My throbbing asshole!
"Fuck me in the ass," I begged. "Oh, Bill, I need it so bad. I need your cock in my asshole so bad.
He pulled out of my pussy and looked down at his dick. It had lapsed into semi erection with his second ejaculation. Doubt was etched on his worried face.
"I ... I ... don't know whether I can do it," he said apologetically. "I don't know whether I can satisfy you."
"You can do it!" I implored. "Just lay down between my legs and I'll make your cock hard again."
Tentatively he did as I said, but I could tell that he had no confidence in his ability to perform. He had a surprise coming.
My crotch caressed his dick like a hairy, wet hand, the lips of my pussy were like fingers rubbing back and forth over the most sensitive regions of his meat. My stiff clit gouged against the face of his cock, actually probing within the tiny slit of his vertical smile.
His cock got hard again, all right. There was no way its owner could have prevented it had he wanted to. A mummy would have been blessed with a hard-on with the work I was doing.
When I felt the head of his prick glowing like a hot coal, I moved it down a notch to the ultimate target. My puckering asshole throbbed to meet him, the anal ridges caressing the tip of his peter like the petals of a carnivorous plant.
"Stick it in," I told him. "What are you waiting for?"
"I'm afraid I'll hurt you," he said with genuine concern. "Your ass seems so small ... and my prick seems so big,"
"My ass is wet," I informed him. "Wet for your big cock. It wants every inch you've got."
That was all he needed to hear. With a straining grunt, he shoved his phallic bulk up my tight shit-pit. All of a sudden, I had half of an abnormally huge prick up my ass, and was conniving to get the rest.
"Shove again," I told him urgently. "Bury yourself in me. Don't stop until I feel your balls." Twisting his hips, he screwed his cock more and more deeply into my bunghole. At the same time I gritted my teeth and opened myself up further and further, applying every muscle of my body toward widening my asshole enough to swallow his entire prick.
"Unnnhhh," I grunted as another couple of inches forced their way inside me.
He ground his pelvis against my open cunt, rubbing my clit with his belt-buckle. I squirmed with delight on the floor.
Two more inches were engorging me.
Only one more to go.
"Fuck me with that last inch!" I cried. "Fuck my ass with the last inch of your cock, Bill!"
Slowly, agonizingly, the remainder of his prick stuffed its way inside me. I put my hand down there, feeling with my fingers as his cock disappeared into my asshole.
Finally there was nothing left to feel but his pubic hair scraping against my splayed crack. His cock was all the way in my ass. Bill was buggering me to the hilt.
This one had to be the best orgasm of all.
For each of us.
I would have no problem, because as a woman I just kept coming more and more strongly with each delicious stroke. But poor Bill had already shot his wad twice within minutes, and he was no teenager. It was my job to get him off right.
I had miraculously kept him hot through all of our lovemaking, but now my biggest challenge was before me. I was determined to draw the biggest load of spunk out of his balls that my husband had ever shot. When it was over, my ass would be filled to overflowing with Bill's precious jizz.
This was the key, I was sure. If Bill could come in each of my holes within minutes, and then blow the hardest in the last one, I was convinced our marriage could be saved. No man and woman who could produce that kind of action should ever be apart.
While he fucked my ass, I rubbed his nuts like they were a magic lamp. My wish come true would be a rectum full of cum.
"
Above, I moved my lips across his face and sealed them against his mouth. While he reamed my ass I fucked his oral cavity with my hard tongue. I matched him thrust for thrust, showing him with the example of my deep soul-kiss just how vigorously I wanted him to cornhole me with his stiff prick.
Incredibly, in the midst of his third fuck, Bill's cock was more swollen than ever. It was harder than it had been in my mouth. Even thicker and longer than it had been in my pussy.
It was more wonderful in my ass than in both previous holes put together.
"Come in me!" I cried. "Come in my ass!"
I was ready to have it happen. It was certain to be a flood or I wasn't a woman once again in love with her husband.
Something whammed against my guts. Hot stickiness suddenly foamed within me.
It was a thunderbolt of cum.
Bill's cum shooting into my ass and swamping my bowels. My husband's cum spurting and spraying and squirting inside me.
Hot cum, endlessly flowing.
It was like having molten lead poured up my ass. The feeling was excruciating. Agonizing. Shattering with its impact. ,
And wonderful. Totally wonderful.
Every iota of intensely pleasurable pain told me that my husband really loved me. He loved me enough to fuck me in the ass and come inside me more than any man ever had.
My husband's cum was the cum I loved. The cum I loved best. The cum I wanted inside my body for the rest of my days.
Yes, I wanted only Bill's cock from now on. Charging down my throat and filling my belly with spunk ... splitting my pussy and engorging it with juice.
And, last but not least, fucking my ass when I'd die if I didn't have it up there.
Yes, this was love. The love for which I had been searching for so long. Other men in the past few months had given me pleasure, but not like this. Not like my own husband was doing as he came and came in my ass, filling my body with his scalding jism.
The feeling had been growing within me all along for the past few days since I'd come to work in the office. But it took Bill's peter to the hilt in my ass and erupting like a volcano for me to finally realize it with crystal clarity.
"I love you, Bill," I whispered in his ear as I tightened my legs around him. "I want to be your wife."
