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Article 24 of 113
Subject: New Story : Bad Breath? ( oral wife )
From: "C. Clinton" <firstKid@whitehouse.gov>
Date: 1997/01/23
Message-Id: <32E7DCB4.B05@whitehouse.gov>
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Organization: The Flat Earth Society
X-Netcom-Date: Thu Jan 23 3:47:05 PM CST 1997
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Reply-To: jamuga@ix.netcom.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
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This is a multi-part message in MIME format.
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Here's one I just dashed off. Kinda different, short but sweet. Let me
know what you think.
Declarations
Global Const Disclaimer as String
Disclaimer = "This text file is intended for mature audiences. It should
not be viewed, copied, transcribed, giggled over,
photocopied, altered or in any way used for any purpose other than that
for which it was intended. It is a violation of Federal
law to use this product in a manner inconsisten with its labeling. You
must be over 18 and in good health to view this text
file. All events depicted and/or described in this file are fictitious.
No resemblance to any person, living or dead, is
intended. Please open other end. Your mileage may vary. See dealer for
complete details."
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Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; name="Bbreath.txt"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Disposition: inline; filename="Bbreath.txt"
Bad Breath?
"Hi, honey, I'm home!" (Yeah, just like in Ozzie and Harriet, I know. But
what else are you going to say?) I looked up from my newspaper. My lovely
wife Suzanne shut the door behind her and walked in to the living room
towards me, dropping her purse, briefcase and coat on the dining room
table.
"Hey, babe, how'ya doing?" I answered, glad to see my wife again. I'd just
gotten home myself about 45 minutes earlier, and waited curiously for my
usually prompt wife to arrive just a few minutes after me. We work in
opposite parts of town, but have an almost identical commuting time.
"Just fine and dandy, thank you kind sir." She leaned over to kiss me. I
took in her fine figure. She had on black pumps with two inch heels, a
tight skirt that rose just a few inches above her knees, a white silk
blouse and a matching jacket. Our lips met and tongues intertwined as I
helped her take the jacket off and threw it to the other end of the sofa.
I ran my hands down over her waist and hips, squeezing lovingly.
As she straightened back up, I thought I smelled a faintly familiar odor
from her kiss. Then it struck me.
"Suzy, have you been.....drinking?"
She blushed a furious shade of red. "Well,....yes" she hesitated. "Don
asked me to stay late and help him and the others for a few minutes. When
we were done, they asked if I'd have a drink with them. I didn't want to at
first, but, you know, Don's my boss, and I would really like to advance in
my job. So I told them OK. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You know I don't mind it at all. How many of them were there,
all told?"
She pursed her lips and frowned. "Uummmm....seven. No, eight, I forgot,
Bill Morris showed up just as we were finishing, and of course, we had to
include him."
"Let me look at you." I stood up and held her at arm's length. Her blouse
was spotless. I could just see the white lace demi-cup bra she had on
underneath of it. I don't know how she does it, but no matter what kind of
blouse Suzy wears, you can almost always see her bra (or bare breasts,
occasionally!) underneath of it. I think she purposely wears darker
underwear than most women normally would, just so it shows through. My
eyes traveled down the length of her torso. Her skirt, wrinkled a bit
after the days work, was also pristine. I kept looking down. Aha! Both
knees looked a bit smudged. Also, one stocking had a small runner in it.
"Ah ah ah!" I chuckled, pointing down at them. "10 demerits for dirty
knees, and 5 for the run." Suzy blushed again. "Take off the skirt." She
twisted it around her waist and unclasped the top, and pulled the zippper
down, then let it fall and stepped out of it. The white lace garter belt
contrasted nicely with her lovely smooth tanned skin. I don't let her wear
pantyhose. An abomination. "Now the blouse." She shrugged it off her
shoulders. "And the bra." She reached in front and undid the clasp,
pulling the cups away on both sides and sliding it off her shoulders. It
joined the blouse and jacket at the other end of the sofa. Her nipples
were hardening. They always do at times like this. I reached up and kissed
them both, hugging her to me. I let one hand slide down and trace a light
touch across the front of her panties and between her legs.
"Do you have the tape?"
"Yes. It's in my purse."
"Put it on. Then you can tell me about it."
I clicked on the set. Thirty seconds later the screen buzzed to life from
the tape she'd put in the machine. I recognized the room - it was a meeting
room off one of the executive offices in her building. She'd set the camera
on the table and positioned it just like we'd planned when I built the
small frame to hold it. Then her profile came into view along the left
half of the screen. She turned to the camera and gave the date and time.
"It's Wednesday, November 14th, Nineteen Ninety Five, at six fifteen p.m."
Then she turned away again to a profile of her right side. After a few
seconds, she opened her mouth. Almost immediately, an erect penis entered
the frame from the right, and she allowed it to enter her mouth and begin
thrusting back and forth. I pulled her down next to me and started rubbing
her nipples as we watched.
She sucked the cock with great talent. Never used her hands. It moved in
and out of her mouth, from tip to groin, as she deep-throated the entire
shaft. After about four or five minutes, the cock pulled back until just
the tip was in her mouth, and the man's hand came down to stroke the shaft.
We both heard the groan from off camera. Then I watched as my lovely wife
swallowed down what appeared to be about half a dozen quick spurts of
semen.
"That was Don. I let him go first, seeing as how he's the boss and all."
"How was it?"
"Really hot. A bit salty, and kinda liquidy. No clumps or anything, that I
could tell."
"Good. Who's next?"
"Umm, I think it was James. Yeah, there he is." She pointed.
It had to be James. Only Negro in the group. Interestingly enough, not a
huge cock. But coal black, just like the rest of him. Great guy. Has a
charming British accent, which I understand he works very hard at
maintaining, since he was born in St. Louis. Again we watched silently as
my wife fellated her co-worker for several minutes until he ejaculated into
her mouth. Again she swallowed at least half a dozen times. I watched her
Adam's apple bob up and down.
"That was a huge one. I think he must've pumped half a pint into me."
"Yeah, looked like it."
The tape lasted about half an hour. One by one, we watched my beautiful,
educated wife get her face fucked by eight men until they all came in her
mouth. She swallowed every drop. Not a single little droplet escaped her
lips to stain her blouse. She's really gotten a lot better at that, I must
admit. Time was, she used to come home with little tiny stains all over the
front of her clothes. Not any more.
Finally she was finished. She turned back to the camera and smiled,
swallowed one last time, and we saw her hand reach out and turn the tape
off. The screen dissolved into snow.
"Well, how was it?" I said.
"Good. They were all different a bit, but good, yeah, good."
"Good as me?"
"Of course not! No one's as good as you."
"That's right. But we're not going to stop until we prove that, right?"
"Right." I got up and popped the tape out and added it to the collection.
That made number one hundred and seventy four. Each half-hour tape was
alike - Suzanne on her knees, getting her throat fucked. Suzanne, on her
knees, swallowing cum. Suzanne, on her knees, licking the white streams
from her lips.
By the time I turned back to the sofa, she had her mouth open for me. I
don't mind being number nine. Hell, one night I was number one, and number
sixty four. And the next day, whew, you talk about bad breath........
Since then, I make sure she has a little bottle of Lavoris in her purse.
She goes through it real fast.
The End
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