The wife's young lover



Most of us lead two lives -- real and fantasy. The housewife imagines herself leading a life of luxury, surrounded by jewels and furs; the businessman imagines himself away from the rat race, painting or fishing by a quiet lake. The schoolboy dreams of someday having wealth and power. And then there are sexual fantasies -- wild dreams that we seldom expect to see come true.

Is it best to repress our desires and fantasies, or to bring them out into the open and act upon them? Does their repression lead to sickness, or their fulfillment bring shame? No one has yet been able to answer these questions satisfactorily.

In this story we see two people whose married life suffers because they hide their real desires from each other. Marlene and Charles Metcalf are unhappy and unfulfilled in their sex life, yet rather than communicating their fantasies to each other, they act them out with strangers. The results are inevitable.

THE WIFE'S YOUNG LOVER -- the story of a modern marriage.



CHAPTER ONE

Green Street comes snaking furtively out of the quagmire of the slums -- a cobbled road not much bigger than an alley with derelict buildings, condemned tenements and warehouses lining either side. It ends at the junction with Broad Street which, although also a slum street, is respectable in comparison with Green and has functioning enterprises and businesses -- such as pawn shops and saloons.

In front of one of these saloons, the Golden Garter, young Billy Wilson had set up his shoeshine box. He had considered the location carefully, tempted to work outside the pawn shop because the men who came out of that establishment would have money, having pawned their watches -- or someone else's watches, more likely -- but Billy had figured that the drunks staggering out of the Golden Garter would be more generous.

Billy was poor. He was a good-looking kid, with crisp hair and a wiry body, but his clothing reflected his penury -- a ragged T-shirt and jeans that had been stained with shoe polish. But he was not inordinately poor for that section of the city, where everyone was poor. He was a cheerful lad who whistled while he worked and shined a shoe with dexterity and class.

He had just finished polishing a pair of expensive but ancient brogues and was waiting for another customer when he noticed a gleaming Cadillac cruising slowly down Broad Street. He looked admiringly at the car. Then he looked to see who the driver was, figuring that only a pimp could have a car like that in a slum like this.

But a woman was driving.

She was going past very slowly, looking out. She was about thirty years old, Billy figured, and good-looking. She had blonde hair worn in a style that must have taken her hairdresser ages to make look casual. Her mouth was full and sensual, her eyes smoky gray. She looked sort of excited, Billy thought. He figured that she was lost and had driven into the slums by mistake and was bemused by the whole situation.

The Cadillac turned onto Green Street.

A drunk wobbled out of the bar and peered at Billy with cloudy eyes, as if wondering if the kid was a lamp post upon which he should piss. Billy started shining his shoes without asking. The guy was too drunk to know the difference, but Billy, being proud and professional, gave him a decent shine. The guy gave him a quarter. Not bad.

Then the Cadillac came down Broad Street again.

The woman was still gazing out as she slowly cruised past, and this time Billy realized that she was looking at him. He figured she wanted to ask directions.

The car pulled over to the curb.

Billy started to walk over to it and the woman opened the door and got out, showing a lot of shapely leg as she did so. She was even better-looking than Billy had first noticed. She was tall and slender, with pneumatic hips and big tits that thrust out pertly. She wore a light summer dress that clung to her curves. Her skin was, short and her neckline, cut low and square, showed her cleavage.

Nice, thought Billy.

Billy appreciated women. He was not a virgin. He had fucked Sally McGee up on the tenement roof two or three times. Everyone took Sally McGee somewhere. But Sally was a teenager and this woman was respectable and elegant. Billy looked admiringly at her without imagining anything special.

She walked slowly across the pavement.

Billy knelt behind his box with his head tilted up as he watched her approach.

She was smiling in a very friendly fashion.

"Hello," she said.

Billy nodded uncertainly.

"Will you shine my shoes?"

Billy looked down at her shoes, nodding again. He figured something was funny here.

"Sure," he said.

She put her foot upon the footrest.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Billy," he said.

"I'm Marlene."

No customer had ever before introduced himself to Billy. Maybe things were different in the fashionable part of town, from where this woman obviously came, Billy figured. He hoped he wasn't expected, to shake hands with her. He bent over her foot and began to apply polish to her expensive shoe. She arched her ankle and Billy noticed how shapely her calf was. He tapped her foot. She stepped down and put her other foot on the box.

Somehow, no doubt accidentally, she managed to raise the hem of her dress in the process.

Her belly was thrust out and her legs were spread wide apart, and Billy just had to glance up.

He looked under her dress.

He blinked and beads of sweat popped out on his brow and he almost dropped the tin of polish.

She didn't have any panties on.

Billy was looking directly at her naked cunt.

Her cunt was wet and the lips were unfurled so that the juicy slot was an open oval, the pink flesh streaked with pearly ribbons of cuntjuice.

Billy figured that she had either just come from a visit to her lover or was en route to see that lucky man. He couldn't relate that creamy pussy to himself.

He looked up at her face.

She knew that he had been looking at her cunt. That was obvious. She didn't care, either, because she was still smiling at the youth.

Billy began putting polish on her other shoe, but his eyes kept going back to her crotch.

"You're a handsome boy," she said. He blushed. He was snapping the rag across the toe of her shoe and sweating heavily. He simply couldn't stop looking at her pussy.

When she switched feet again, she managed to keep her dress lifted so that the maneuver didn't hinder his view of her cunt for a moment.

Must be one of them cockteasers, Billy thought.

An effective one, too, because his sturdy young cock was getting hard as a crowbar and thumping vigorously in the tight confines of his jeans. He figured he was going to have to go into the bathroom of the Golden Garter and pull himself off as soon as the woman departed.

He looked over the polishing, wanting to gaze at that juicy snatch for as long as possible. It was frustrating, but the sight made it worthwhile. It was a much nicer cunt that Sally McGee's much used one.

Finally, he was finished.

"Okay," he said.

She gave him a dollar.

"Gee, thanks," he said.

She didn't take her foot off the box. She smiled down at him as he looked up her dress.

"Do you like what you see?" she asked.

What in hell did a guy say to that?

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"How would you like to earn... oh... ten dollars?"

Billy gulped. A kid had to shine a lot of shoes to earn ten dollars, but it wasn't the money that made the suggestion so fascinating.

"How?" he asked.

"Oh... come for a ride with me." Billy cocked his head. He noticed that she wore no bra, either, because her nipples were pushed out against the material of her dress in sharp peaks.

"Are you one of them nymphomaniacs?" he asked.

Marlene laughed gaily.

"Why, no. I just happen to like young men."

"I'm young," he said.

"Ummm, yummy."

Billy stood up -- a bit reluctantly, since he couldn't look at her crotch when he was upright, but with high hopes of seeing it again.

She looked up and down the street. No one was paying them any attention.

Billy glanced inquiringly at the Cadillac. "Bring your box," she said. Buy was more interested in her box, but he gathered up his equipment hurriedly. She moved away, her lovely ass swinging like a pendulum. She got into the car and waited. Billy walked over, hiding his hard-on behind the box. He could scarcely believe this was happening to him. A guy heard about things like this, but he never expected them to really happen. He half-expected her to drive off, laughing at his distress and leaving him alone with his thundering hard-on.

But she didn't.

Billy got into the car and tossed his shoeshine kit in the back. He wasn't hiding his hard-on now, and the woman looked at his groin and licked her lips.

"That looks lovely," she said.

His cock was threatening to rip right through his jeans. The big wad surged and writhed.

She started the car.

Then she looked seriously at him and said, "I never did a thing like this before, Billy. I want you to know that. I've wanted to for a long time and I've thought about it time and again, but you are the first."

Billy didn't give a damn.

"Sometimes I play with myself while I think about young men," she said with that sexy smile. "I rub myself off, Billy... I finger fuck myself and think about young boys..."

"Oh, wow," he gasped.

Even Sally McGee didn't talk like that!

"Do you know what I want to do to you, Billy?"

He shook his head, although he might have ventured a guess. He thought she wanted him to fuck her.

But he would have been wrong.

She said, "I want to suck your cock."

Billy felt faint. All his blood seemed to have rushed into his bloated pecker, depriving his brain of oxygen.

"I want to blow you," she said. "I've dreamed about blowing a young man so often... have you ever had a blow-job?"

"No," he croaked.

He had tried to stick it into Sally's mouth once, but she had told him that was disgusting.

"I think you'll like it," Marlene said.

"Yeah!"

She laughed.

"You polished my shoes... now I'm going to polish your sweet young peckerhead," she said.

She sure had a dirty mouth, thought Billy -- and she wanted his cock in that dirty mouth! He was tingling with expectation and his prick felt like it was ready to ignite.

"I want you to come in my mouth, too, Billy. I want to drink your jism."

"I'm gonna come in my pants if you keep telling me things like that," the boy croaked.

"Oh, my! Don't do that," she said.

She licked her lips.

Then she put the car in gear.

An elevated highway arched over the slums so that travelers could avoid those sordid streets. Beneath the highway there was a desolate field filled with crumbling concrete and hearty weeds. Marlene had scouted the terrain earlier. Now she drove under the highway and pulled the Cadillac beside one of the pilings, very close, as if to prevent Billy from opening the door on the passenger side in case he happened to change his mind -- an unlikely possibility.

She opened her handbag and took a ten dollar bill out. She handed it to the bemused boy.

"You don't have to pay me," he said.

"Oh, I want to," she said. "It makes it... naughtier that way. More depraved."

Billy didn't understand what she meant, but he folded the bill and slipped it into his pocket.

It beat shining shoes.

For a long moment they just looked at each other, both anticipating the pleasure to come.

Then she said, "I don't want you to do anything, Billy, lust relax and let me do it all."

Well, he could hardly relax, but he got the idea. He sat back in the seat and pushed his loins up.

Marlene leaned over him, her face ferocious with lust. She was literally hungry for cockmeat. She unbuckled his belt and unsnapped his jeans and then, very slowly, drew the zipper down, inch by inch. His fly gaped open in a wide triangle. He wore white cotton shorts and his cock pressed them up in a huge mound, like a ghostly prick wearing a sheet and rattling the chain of his desire.

Marlene blew her hot breath onto his cock.

She had longed for this moment so often, and now that it had arrived she was delaying, savoring the expectation. Her face was a mask of desire, eyes narrowed, lips parted. The pink tip of her tongue slid back and forth across her mouth.

Billy's cockhead was oozing preliminary cum. A wet patch appeared on his shorts.

"Ooooh," she sighed.

She slipped her fingers under the elastic band of his shorts and drew them down. She tucked them under his swollen nut-sac so that his whole vibrant cock was bared. She gazed at his prick with fascination.

His pecker towered up from his loins, the stalk fat and the knob flaring -- a big mushroom-headed cock as hard as an iron bar and as hot as molten steel.

The tip was slippery with silvery cum.

"Oh my God!" she gasped. "My mouth is watering for your delicious cock."

She reached out and cupped his bloated balls in her hand. She squeezed gently, moving his hard nuts around inside the hairy sac. Her other hand folded around the root of his prick and stroked it up and down, moving just an inch or so at the base of his thick stalk.

"Don't come too quickly," she said. "Let me suck you for a long time before you shoot."

Billy couldn't guarantee that. He guessed that maybe this really was her first time with a young guy, since she thought he could hold his load back for very long.

But he could always come a second time -- or a third, even. In the potency of his youth, Billy often jerked off three or four times in a row.

She blew on his cockhead.

Her head lowered and her tongue came out. Billy groaned. She licked at the air just an inch above his cock-knob, teasing him -- and teasing herself, too.

She touched the tip of her tongue to the tip of his dick lightly. His cockhead was slippery with cum. She drew her tongue back and sighed, savoring the taste of his jism on her taste buds for a moment.

"Yummy," she said.

Then she began licking his cockhead with long, fluid, slurping strokes. She worked her tongue all around the knob, laying the bloated slab with saliva and lapping up the spunk that was sliding from the parted cleft.

Her lips pursed, she kissed the tip of his dick lightly. Then her lips parted slowly and she took his cock into her mouth with her lips compressed around it.

Billy moaned softly. He had never felt anything as wonderful as the tight collar of her lips on his cockhead.

Sb sucked avidly.

Cum trickled onto her tongue.

She was drooling down his cock, her saliva running onto his balls. She had just his knob inside her mouth as she sucked merrily away, at first. Then she began to bob her head up and down, feeding almost the full length of his rock-hard prick into her face. Her lips worked down almost to his balls as she moved down, then unpeeled as she sucked back up to the throbbing head.

Her tongue flashed against the underside of his shaft and knob, swirling around his prick.

Billy stared down, watching her lips pull, watching his pecker vanish in her mouth, then emerge slippery with saliva and oozing cum onto her tongue.

She pulled her lips away. His knob popped from her mouth like a cork from a bottle.

Billy stared at her dumbly, terrified that she had had enough, that she was finished.

But she had merely decided to vary her technique.

She began to lick his balls, her nimble tongue gliding over and under the swollen cum-filled sac, and then she started running her tongue up his shaft from root to knob with long fluid slurps. Temporarily abandoned, his cockhead was flaring and smoking and foaming with juice.

Marlene fitted her lips to the underside of his cockshaft and ran them up and down as if she were playing a flute.

"I can't hold it much longer!" Billy wailed.

"Give it to me, then... fill my mouth with that hot cream, Billy... let me milk your balls and drink your sweet jism, you lovely boys."

She slipped his peckerhead into her mouth again and began to suck avidly while her head bobbed up and down. She ran his cock far back into her throat, the knob lodging in her gullet so that she gasped. Then she drew her tight lips up to the crown, sucking every inch as she went.

"Come, come, come..." she purred, speaking the word around a mouthful of meat.

Billy moaned and shifted, fucking her face as it went steadily up and down on his dick.

Then he was at the crest.

He wailed and his balls erupted. The thick cock-cream rushed up his shaft.

Suddenly Marlene's mouth was filled with cum.

"Ooooh!" she wailed.

She gulped the delicious cream down as fast as she could, making room for his second geyser. Billy lashed his jism into her mouth with gusto. As much as she was gulping, he poured such a load into her that her mouth overflowed. Cum bubbled from her lips and trickled in a thick ribbon down his stalk, then her lips slid down and gathered it up again.

Her cheeks hollowed in. She pulled on him with her lips and her tongue flashed back and forth. He shot a third spurt into her face, then sank back, his cockhead still pouring the cum out, but under less pressure now, laying the oil onto her tongue in a steady trickle.

She sucked ravenously, milking every drop of jism from his cock and swallowing it joyfully.

At last he was finished.

Marlene continued to suck until his cock began to soften and diminish in her mouth, and then she used her skillful tongue to gather up a few stray drops that had run down his shaft and onto his balls.

She leaned back, smiling with creamy lips, looking happy and contented.

"Oh, that was lovely," she whimpered. "I love to drink cum... I adore your sweet spunk, Billy."

She licked her lips.

"It was swell," he said.

She gazed thoughtfully at him for a moment, her tongue still gliding across her lips, although she had already lapped up every drop of jism.

"I really never did a thing like this before," she told him -- as if that were important.

Then she gave a little shrug. She had stopped smiling. She reached down and tucked his cock back into his shorts and zipped him up. Then she kissed him affectionately on the mouth.

He had never been kissed by a cocksucker before, especially not directly after a cock had been sucked, but it was his cock so he didn't mind.

He said, "You can do it again, if you want."

She seemed to be considering it.

But then she said, "I'd better not."

"Well... anytime you want to do it again I mean, you don't have to pay me or nothing."

"Who knows?" she said.

She started the car and drove him back to the corner of Green and Broad. She said nothing all the way there, concentrating on driving the car, perhaps -- or thinking about what she had done.

But when she drew up to the curb, she said, "I suppose I'll see you again, Billy. If you want me to."

"Oh, yeah!"

"I shouldn't... but I'd be silly to think that I won't want to do it again. Maybe next time I'll take you home with me. You can fuck my cunt, Billy. Would you like that? I could suck your cock first and then you could fuck me and shoot up my cunt and make me come, too."

Billy, dizzy at the thought, nodded dumbly. Marlene seemed to be getting inspired again by her own words. Billy half-expected her to drive right back to the elevated highway. She was squirming in the seat, but then she said, "I have to go now... I want to get home before my husband does."

Billy gulped.

She was married!

She had cuckolded her husband -- in her mouth!

Somehow that was a very erotic thought. It made what they'd done seem even more wicked -- and more desirable because it was so wicked.

He wondered if she would kiss her husband before she brushed her teeth. Maybe she wouldn't brush her teeth at all. She sure seemed to like the taste of cum and maybe she would want it to linger all day.

Billy got out of the car.

His cock was almost hard again and he knew that he was going to have to whack off about a dozen times that night while he remembered what happened.

Marlene smiled at him and drove off.

He sure hoped he would see her again.

CHAPTER TWO

Well, she had done it. She had finally done it.

Marlene had thought and dreamed about seducing a young boy for so long that it hardly seemed possible that she had really gone through with it. She ran her tongue across her lower lip -- as if to taste the proof of her sin.

Now, driving home, she felt ashamed, embarrassed and filled with regret. She had resisted the urge in the past and now that she had succumbed she wished that she hadn't. She felt wicked and depraved.

But despite that, she could not deny the fact that she had simply adored sucking on his splendid young cock and swallowing the abundant cream of his potency when he had poured it into her mouth. Even as she regretted having done it, she wondered if it was a thing that she would ever do again. Would she be satisfied now that she had milked a boy's cock -- or would the treat simply make her long for young cock all the more?

God! If her husband ever found out! But there was no way he would ever find out. Marlene was sure as hell not going to tell him. Confession would do her no good. It was a thing she'd simply had to do and she'd done it. Now she was worried about the future.

She might get into the habit. Maybe young dicks were habit-forming, addictive -- she might need another dose of teenage prick like a junky needs drugs.

As she drove home her pussy was smoldering like a glowing ember between her slick thighs.

Should she have fucked the boy, instead of sucking him off. Or both, maybe. A good fuck would have satisfied her hot cunt, no doubt of that -- but the moment she had seen the good looking shoeshine boy, she had been filled with a raging desire to take his load in her mouth. After she had milked him, the shame and remorse had come upon her so quickly that there had been no thought of getting her own pussy taken care of.

Well, she could always give herself a hand job when she got home, she figured, or wait for, her husband to get home and fuck her. While she thought about the youth, she felt both guilty and stimulated at the same time. It would be wicked to pretend that her husband was a teenage boy -- but thrilling, too.

She stopped for a traffic light.

While she waited, she ran her fingertips up the inside of her slick thigh and then brushed them lightly over her naked steaming snatch. Her cunt was already open and creamy. The moment, she touched it, it began to sizzle.

God, I'm depraved, she thought.

But she wasn't at all sure that she didn't feel a bit proud of her depravity.

Marlene Metcalf and her husband, Charles, lived in the suburbs. They had been married for seven years and they were quite happy together. Marlene was twenty-eight. Charles was thirty. She had never cheated on him before, and she didn't think that he had ever been unfaithful to her, either.

But then there had come that compelling desire to seduce a young boy. It had begun mildly enough, as just another masturbation fantasy, along with certain other ones -- a handsome film star, a lesbian encounter, a gang-bang -- things she had never done but found exciting to contemplate while playing with her pussy. But the fantasy about a young man soon drove all the other away. It became compelling; Marlene found herself fingerfucking herself twice a day, thinking of young cock as she did so.

She never imagined what the boy would look like -- not his features, that is. In her fantasy his face was blank. But he was young and slim and had a big prick and he was hot for her -- just like Billy Wilson.

Only vaguely had Marlene speculated upon the reasons for her strange fixation. She was not an introspective sort of woman and she did not look for deep meanings behind, her behavior or seek some trauma in her youth as a cause. She thought that anyone who went to a psychiatrist was crazy -- and that he went because he was crazy, but that he was crazy to go -- and she took Freud and his ilk with a grain of salt.

She wanted to suck off a young boy simply because it was such a thrilling thing to do, and she looked for no motivation or justification beyond that simplicity.

But she did know what had pushed her to actually doing it today, instead of merely thinking about it while she played with her cunt.

She had been inspired by the boy next door.

Mike Parker was a good-looking athletic young fellow. Marlene often saw him in his back yard, which was next to her own and, quite naturally, she often used Mike as a part of her inspirational fantasies. She had never intended to seduce him, certainly, although she would have liked to. But it would be far too dangerous to start anything with the kid next door. If his parents ever found out. Well, it simply wasn't viable. Sneaking off to the slums and paying a gutter kid to feed her some dick was bad enough -- but it was safe.

That morning, Mike had knocked on her back door.

Marlene hadn't been dressed yet and when she heard the knock she looked out the window, wondering who on earth could be calling so early.

When she saw Mike standing there, her cunt started to steam and flood automatically.

Did she dare answer the door naked?

No, she mustn't. But she could wear her sexy, transparent negligee. The idea thrilled her to the core. She couldn't do anything -- not with Mike -- but she could at least have the pleasure of giving him a good look at her lush body and watching how he reacted. That was safe enough -- especially if she acted as if she didn't realize how much of her body was on display, as if she figured Mike was too young to be interested.

She quickly slipped into her filmy robe and went to the door, opening it and looking surprised -- as if she hadn't known who was there.

Mike's eyes bulged out.

Marlene pretended not to notice.

The flimsy negligee clung to her curves. Her big nipples were outlined, pushing out. She had secured the garment by a belt at the midriff, allowing it to gape open at the top so that her cleavage showed and to drift apart at the bottom when she moved her thigh forward.

"Why, hello, Mike," she said.

"Errr... ahhh... our telephone has gone on the blink and I wondered if I might use your phone, Mrs. Metcalf?"

His eyes were moving all over her, and he was blushing bright red. His reaction delighted Marlene.

"Of course," she said.

She showed him into the front room, walking ahead of him and undulating her hips. As the boy dialed the phone, she sat on the couch, her pose casual. She moved her legs apart as if by accident.

Mike was watching her and pretending not to be watching her.

She stretched. She picked up a magazine and began to glance at it, so that Mike was able to stare openly at her, without having his interest noticed. And then, feeling absolutely wicked, Marlene pretended to scratch her leg and, in the process, managed to draw the folds of her negligee apart so that Mike could see her naked pussy.

Although she was carefully avoiding his eyes, she could feel his vision burning into her crotch. It was almost as if his gaze had tactile properties, as if her were caressing her with his hot eyes.

Marlene almost creamed.

Mike's voice was rasping as he spoke into the phone. Marlene sneaked a glance over the top of the magazine and smiled when she saw the huge bulge in the front of his trousers.

He wanted to fuck her! She was thrilled. If only he had been a stranger, a delivery boy or someone like that -- even if he lived down the street, instead of right next door.

In fact, if Mike had suggested it, Marlene would have fucked him, danger be damned. But Mike had no idea that she was lusting for him. He assumed that she had displayed her pussy by accident and that she would have been outraged if he tried to seduce her. He made his call a brief one. He felt that he had to get out of there before she noticed his hard-on -- or before he fainted from the extent of his arousal.

He thanked her for the use of the phone. Marlene walked to the door with him, managing to brush her tit against his arm as she showed him out.

Mike dashed home and jerked off vigorously.

But Marlene didn't masturbate, strangely enough.

She started to. She sat on the couch, in the same position in which she'd let him look at her cunt, and began to rub and caress herself, but she stopped before she reached an orgasm. She was too damn hot to settle for a hand job.

Ht for young cock!

But where in hell could she get some?

She considered several possibilities. She might send herself a telegram and seduce the boy who delivered it, or wander over to the athletic field and try her luck, or go, to the drugstore where young men hung out -- but none of those ideas appealed to her very much.

Then she got the brilliant idea that she might drive into the city and find some boy in the slums, someone who hat no idea who she was or where she lived so that there could be -- no possible danger of getting found out.

The moment she thought of that, she was determined to do it. It was shameful, certainly, but Marlene was far too aroused to worry about that until afterwards.

And so it was that, inspired by having let Mike Parker see her cunt, Marlene had ventured into the seamy downtown streets and found Billy Wilson.

Now she was hotter than ever.

She had one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on her smoldering cunt as she drove home. I must be crazy, she thought. Why did I do that terrible thing? Well, I wanted to is why. But why in hell did I suck him off instead of letting him fuck me? Now I've committed a wicked sin -- and I'm still horny for more.

She was almost tempted to drive right back to the corner of Green and Broad and ask Billy to give her some more dick.

But she resisted the urge.

She drove into her garage and sat in the car for a few minutes, playing with her cunt with both hands. It felt so good that she didn't want to come, to end it too soon, and each time she felt the thrill starting to approach the crest she took her hands away and let her pussy cool down a bit, then started stroking it all over again.

Her crotch was so sodden that she was soaking the leather seat with cuntjuice.

She decided to go into the house and finish the hand-job in the bedroom, in comfort. When she slid out of the car, her creamy snatch squished between her legs. She felt as if her crotch were combustible, as if tongues of flame might start licking down her thighs and up her belly.

Marlene was astounded at the extent of the hot lust that was lashing through her loins. It had always made her hot to fantasize about seducing young men, but now that she had actually done it, she found that the memory was far more stimulating than the pure fantasy had been. How long was this going to last? she wondered, half-fearful of such consuming passion. Was she going to be racked by desire day after day, now that she had taken the initial step into depravity?

The thought left her of two minds: on the one hand, she enjoyed feeling sexually aroused and subsequently relieving herself; on the other hand, she liked to have some say in the matter, some control, so that it was up to her to determine when she would allow her passion to take fire, consciously deciding to think about young prick and get all worked up as a prelude to a leisurely hand-job -- a coldblooded approach to a hot-blooded condition. Now she was afraid that she was going to be hot all the time -- or at totally unexpected times -- so that her pussy would start creaming inconveniently, when there was nothing that she could do to cool it off.

Well, she would think about that possibility later. At the moment, her aroused condition was convenient and she could take advantage of it without interruption.

She moved down the covered passage from the garage to the house, pausing halfway along the promenade to raise her skirt and give her foaming twat a few strokes. The passage entered into the kitchen, and she passed through into the front room, where earlier that day she had managed to accidentally let Mike Parker get a look at her cunt.

That memory was so pleasant that the oversexed woman decided to complete her self-satisfaction there instead of the bedroom, in which only her husband had ever looked at her cunt. She loved her husband and regretted the dark passions that had led her to cuckold him -- but Charles was an adult, a handsome man with a hairy chest and a mature bearing. Love had nothing to do with it. It was pure lust and it revolved around smooth-skinned young virgin boys with bursting dicks desperate with puberty.

Marlene stood beside the couch, and drew her dress off so that she was naked. Then she sat on the couch -- in the exact same position she had assumed when Mike Parker had been watching hex from the telephone stand.

She pretended that he was there now.

Her mind, weaved a fantasy: she imagined that Mike had come in to use the phone and that, for some reason, she had not known that he was in the room -- or more precisely, he had not known that she was aware of his presence.

After all, no one could blame her for exciting the boy if it were strictly accidental, could they? A woman was entitled to play with here pussy in private. If a horny lad happened to see what she was doing, it was simply a mistake.

With the background thus fixed in her mind, Marlene began to masturbate with utter happiness.

She stroked her cuntlips until those enflamed flaps had unfurled like the petals of a fleshy pink blossom, opening to the morning sun, streaked with creamy dew.

She rubbed her stiff tingling clit and shuddered as the spasms of sensation ran like electricity through her belly and down her widely spread thighs.

She pushed her middle finger up her cunt to the knuckle and stirred it about, and her cunt sucked on the slender digit and her thumb caressed her clit. She was pretending that her finger was Mike Parker's cock. But one finger was not enough for that pretense. She had noticed how large the lump in his pants was when he'd seen her cunt, and she felt happily convinced that the boy had a sizable prick.

And she knew perfectly well that Billy Wilson had a huge pecker, so she began to think about him, as well, so that both boys became united in her mind -- became the prototype youth for which she lusted -- slim, hairless, innocent and equipped with a gigantic cock. It didn't matter that the two boys did not look alike. They blended admirably into a single entity in her thoughts.

She added a second finger, then a third and, finally, began to push all four fingers in and out of her juicy cunt, holding them bunched together so that they were just about the right breadth to simulate a cock.

After a few moments, she drew them out and brought them to her mouth. Her fingers were streaked with cunt-cream. Marlene began fucking her mouth with her hand, imagining that her fingers were a cock and that the slippery cuntjuice that soaked them was hot jism.

While she fed herself on this cock substitute, she rubbed her cunt with her other hand. When that was frothy with cunt-oil, she switched hands. The taste of Billy's cum was, still lingering in her mouth, and it seemed to heat up again and blend very nicely with the slightly different flavor of her steaming pussy nectar.

By this time her crotch was glowing.

Her mind seemed to be melting just like her cunt. The fabric of her thoughts and imagination broke down and the images she was using to arouse herself flowed out of shape like hot wax. The oversexed woman could no longer concentrate on fantasy. She had become a creature of blind thoughtless need now, confined to the physical.

She began to masturbate with both hands, abandoning her mouth and using both hands on her cunt. She spread her cunt lips open with one hand, thumbing her clitoris as well while she steadily finger-fucked her wanton pussy with the other hand, still using all four fingers.

Thick ribbons of cuntjuice poured from her slot and ran down her crotch and seeped into the tight crack of her ass. The cushions were soaked under her as she thrashed about, grinding her hips and humping her belly up and down and extending her legs out as she arched her back.

Her orgasm swept her up like the hand of a giant, tossing her into a whirlpool of sensation. She whimpered and moaned and gasped. She felt as if her skeleton were coming disjointed, her blood boiling, her whole being melting into the hot flow of her flooding cunt.

She cried out aloud as the come lashed her. She hovered at the height of sensation, her cunt going off like a machine gun in a series of orgasms that came so fast, one upon the other, that they seemed to be one prolonged wave of ecstasy that coursed through her forever.

At last, it ended.

She continued to caress her cunt, working out the terminal spasms of her passion, but her hands slowed gradually and then stopped moving. She held her drained cunt cupped in both hands, as if jealously possessing it.

A contented smile turned her mouth up at the corners and her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

Never had she enjoyed herself more, she realized. Thee was a lot to be said for sucking off a precious young pecker and letting her own pussy stew in its own juices for a little while. It made the eventual climax dynamic.

After a while she got up, weak-kneed. She stood there naked for a moment, as if uncertain whether her loins were truly satiated or might require another hand-job before she got dressed. But she was drained -- for the moment.

That was just as well, she knew. It would hardly be seemly if she had reached a stage when she had to finger-fuck herself for hours on end. She put her dress on and went out to make some coffee. She didn't put any underwear on. Her husband would be home soon and she felt that she ought to give him a nice fuck -- as if to make up for having cuckolded him by being attentive.

She wondered if she would be compelled to ever do a wicked thing like that again.

When the coffee started to percolate, the amber fluid spurting out of the basket reminded her very much of a cock ejaculating. She smiled wanly at her capacity for sexual imagery. She hoped that she wouldn't have to cheat on Charles again.

But she wouldn't have bet on it.

CHAPTER THREE

The Golden Garter was not the only bar on Broad Street. There were quite a few of them, each one more grimy and sordid than the last. Directly across the street from the Garter was the Regency, a gloomy place with sawdust on the floor and twenty-cent draft beer.

Billy Wilson's father was standing at the bar in the Regency, looking out the grimy window.

Clyde Wilson did not look at all like his son. He was a burly, brawny, hairy fellow with a shock of unruly black hair on his head and a few wisps of the same dark stuff curling out at the open neck of his ragged flannel shirt.

His eyebrows met above his nose in a solid black, bar. Thick hair sprouted from his nostrils and from his ears, one of which was folded over in a classic cauliflower configuration, which had happened when he had fallen down, drunk, and banged it on the edge of a bar, but which he attributed to a mythical Golden Gloves experience.

He had been observing Billy at work, trying to calculate how much money his son was earning shining shoes and trying to figure out how he could get it away from the industrious youth.

It annoyed Clyde that Billy was a hardworking lad.

Clyde had never worked a day in his life, and he wondered where the boy had got such an unlikely trait. Billy's mother was a slattern who stacked the dishes up in the filthy sink for weeks at a time, so the kid obviously had not inherited his industry from her. That mysterious trait, along with the fact that Billy did not resemble Clyde, often gave Clyde pause to pander about parenthood and to wonder if his slut of a wife had got knocked up by some other guy -- some hairless, hardworking fellow.

He didn't really give a shit.

He saw the big Cadillac draw up and he watched with interest while Billy shined the woman's shoes.

Then he watched with absolute fascination when Billy packed up his box and got in the car with the woman.

What in hell was that all about? he wondered. Did she have a whole shit load of shoes waiting to be shined? Was the kid making a house call in his line of work? Well, maybe. But Clyde was suspicious.

He ordered another beer and waited. "Buy me a drink, Clyde?" It was Rosy, a regular at the Regency. Clyde bought her a drink once in a while and fucked her occasionally in the back room, but he wasn't interested now.

"Naw," he said.

Rosy shrugged. She was a redhead who had seen better days, and wore far too much makeup on her ravaged face, but she still had a good set of knockers and she knew that someone would buy her a drink soon enough.

She sat next to Clyde, her big tits out on the bar like a shelf.

Clyde ignored her.

The bartender told her to get her tits off the bar and she laughed and left them there. He began to wipe the counter with a rag and managed to give her a good feel as he wiped past. Her nipples stiffened.

Clyde had another beer.

Then the Cadillac returned and he watched as Billy and the woman sat there for a moment, talking. He could see that Billy was looking excited and the woman was flushed and he had a pretty shrewd idea what had happened.

Billy went back to the corner. The Cadillac drove off. Clyde finished his beer and went out, crossed the street and stomped up to the shoeshine boy.

Billy saw his father coming and winced. He didn't much like the brawny hairy fellow. He, too, wondered if his natural father might have been someone else -- some respectable gentleman, perhaps, who had fallen upon hard times, or maybe some clever white-collar criminal forced to hide from the law in the slums. It was an interesting thought. Billy would much rather have been a bastard than to be Clyde's kid.

Clyde loomed over him.

"Who was the broad?" he asked.

Billy turned pale.

"C'mon, brat! I asked you a question."

"Just a customer," said Billy.

"Kinky, was she? Hah? She like young kids?"

Billy said nothing, which only served to make his father all the more suspicious.

Clyde raised a threatening hand.

Billy figured he was going to get whacked whether he told the truth or not. As a matter of fact, he was thrilled and proud of what had happened -- and he didn't see that there would be much harm in telling his father what had happened. His father already knew that he sometimes went up on the tenement roof with Sally McGee. Far from objecting, he wished that he could fuck the lewd girl, too.

So Billy shrugged and said, "She likes me."

"She want you to fuck her, did she?"

"Errr... not exactly."

The hand rose again, menacingly. "She paid me ten bucks," Billy said. Clyde's hand came down and his jaw came open.

"What for?" he demanded. Billy looked smug.

"She wanted to suck my cock," he said.

Clyde looked stunned. "Jesus!" he gasped.

No one had ever paid him for dick. He was jealous and envious and annoyed. He was also, in a round-about way, proud of the kid. Maybe Billy was his son, after all.

"She did, too," said Billy, encouraged by Clyde's reaction and sensing the combination of emotions that the man was experiencing at this confession.

"Did she... swallow it?" Clyde asked in a strangled sort of voice, his big face flushing bright red.

"Oh, yeah... all of it. She likes to."

"Well, I'll be damned!"

Clyde's eyes were rolling around. Strange thoughts moved inside his beefy head.

Then he looked shy.

"You gonna see her again?" he asked.

"Maybe. She's a married woman, and she was sort of ashamed of what she did. But maybe."

Clyde digested that.

Then, without another word to the boy, he turned on his heel and walked back across the street to the Regency.

Sitting at the bar, Clyde schemed [missing text].

Having never worked a day in his life, Clyde often had to think up ways to make a bit of money to supplement his welfare checks. He was not averse to a bit of blackmail.

The woman was gorgeous.

She was obviously well-to-do, having a new Cadillac.

And she was married.

It was a perfect situation, thought Clyde. A woman like that would probably pay plenty to keep her husband from finding out that she blew shoeshine boys -- and maybe she would be willing, to add a little cocksucking to the blackmail pot, as well!

Clyde began to plan.

And his cock began to get as hard as he thought about that respectable woman sucking his kid's dick in her Cadillac.

Hard-ons were not rare in the Regency. The customers there were a lusty lot and many a rampant pecker could be seen thrusting up in ragged trousers. No one paid them much attention.

Except Rosy, who often fucked for beers. Now, leaning over the shelf of her tits, Rosy gazed down at Clyde's bulging crotch.

"Cock's hard," she remarked in a conversational tone.

Clyde was surprised.

He looked down and, sure enough, his prick was thundering merrily away in his pants. Clyde was a man with a one-tracked mind. That is, he had a limited intelligence and could only deal with one thought at a time. He had been thinking about the money he could blackmail out of the woman and that left no room in his mind for thoughts of a sexual nature, so his erection had sneaked up on him before he was aware of it.

"Why, so it is," he said.

"What you gonna do with it, then?"

Clyde looked at Rosy. She had scarlet lips and heavily mascaraed eyes, but she was still a pretty good-looking woman and, more to the point, she was at hand.

"Have a drink, Rosy," said Clyde.

Clyde bought her a drink and got himself another beer and she sat close to him at the bar. Each time he raised his glass, his hairy forearm rubbed her fat tit. She drank in a suggestive fashion, her red lips caressing the rim of the glass and her pink tongue gliding out. She knew full well that Clyde would expect some pussy in return for the drink, but she was most agreeable to that exchange.

She was surprised that he was in no hurry to collect, however.

But Clyde was working himself up as he imagined just what it had looked like in the Cadillac, with that adorable blonde woman going down on Billy's cock. He didn't have a great imagination, but it didn't take much as he pictured those sweet lips peeled back around the kid's cockhead and that golden hair cascading over his balls as her head went up and down with a steady rhythm and in due course, how Billy blew his hot load and she drank it hungrily down.

Clyde's cock was pounding by this time.

"You really ought to do something about that big lump in your pants, Clyde," Rosy suggested. "It ain't healthy for a man to have a hard-on like that for too long."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Let's go in the back room."

"Will you buy me another drink afterwards?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay," she said, as agreeable as could be.

Clyde signaled the bartender.

"We're gonna use the store room, right?" he said.

The bartender shrugged.

Clyde and Rosy finished their drinks and walked, hand in hand, into the back room.

The store room was a small poorly lighted cubicle with beer crates stacked along the walls. It was hardly a romantic place for the consummation of passion, but it was available. Rosy had been there often and had perfected a routine.

She knelt in front of Clyde and opened his belt and zipper. She reached in and hauled his big pecker out. He had a huge dick with a fat stalk topped by a meaty purple helmet. His balls were bloated with cum. The load had built up as he had thought about Billy and the blonde cocksucker.

His cock looked so tasty that Rosy simply had to lean forward and give the swollen knob a tongue-stroke or two, then slip it into her mouth and sucks her rouged cheeks drawing in hollow as she pulled on his cockhead.

But she stopped after a moment, for it was a point of principle with Rosy that she never sucked a guy off unless he bought her at least three mixed drinks.

Nor did Clyde want a blow-job from Rosy. Thrilled by the knowledge that Billy had been sucked off by that gorgeous wealthy blonde, Clyde would have felt embarrassed to accept head from a redheaded barfly.

Pussy was a different matter.

Rosy proceeded to produce her pussy.

She stood up and raised her skirt and pushed her panties down, kicking them from one ankle and leaving them, like a broken hobble around her other foot.

Her cuntmound was thickly matted with a triangle of red hair -- a flaming bush dissected by a slippery slit. Her wet cunt was like a swampy river running through a forest fire. She held her dress up and pushed her pelvis out, letting Clyde get a good look at her steamy pussy.

Then she perched on the edge of a stack of beer crates, her legs extended wide apart, and she pushed her pelvis up so that her crotch was angled for his thrust. Clyde knelt on the concrete floor between her thighs.

Wrapping his hand around the root of his thick prick, he aimed the blunt head at her slot. He pushed his hips out and his cockhead brushed her hairy pussy. He began to rub the tip around in her slot, not penetrating yet but using it like a spoon to stir her creamy bowl.

He thought about the blonde.

She thought about the drink he had promised her.

Fucking always made Rosy thirsty, although not as thirsty as cocksucking did, which was why she would never give head for less than three mixed drinks. She liked the taste of jism, but found it more palatable when followed by some Scotch and soda.

She began to grind her cunt around on his knob.

Her slot was gaping open and foaming as he stirred his big ladle in the creamy bowl. He was holding his cock by the hilt and wiping the tip up and down so that it passed over her stiff clit as well as her crack. The knob was throbbing and the vein pulsating. The head expanded like an inflated balloon.

Rosy was amazed at how considerate Clyde was being -- for this was the closest thing to foreplay that any man had showed her in years. She did not require foreplay, however, her cunt was an ever-ready sort.

"Ummm... put it in," she sighed.

He pushed the head between her cuntlips, the proud slab stirring through her tight pubic hair like a purple rodent through thick undergrowth. Then he drew back and aimed the knob right at her gaping gash.

He rammed his cock home with a solid whack, running the whole length up her cunt on the initial stroke. His bloated balls swung in and whacked her ass as his belly slapped hers. She threw her legs out and lamped her creamy thigh around his haunches, dragging him into her crotch as if she wanted to engulf him balls and all.

Clyde held the full penetration for a moment, enjoying the sensation of having every inch of his hard pecker buried in hot cunt, while randy Rosy shifted her hips around and pulled with her cuntmuscles. The suction of her pussy worked on his dick with a steady massaging action. When he pushed his prick up her, her cunthole rippled along the full length. When he drew it out, her skilled cunt seemed to rotate around his stalk like a fleshy nut around a bolt. He corkscrewed in, starting to twitch nd rumble in his throat as the thrill grew. For the moment, he forgot all about his plans for blackmail -- and even stopped imagining how it had looked when that wealthy depraved blonde cradle-robber went down on Billy's prick.

Rosy occupied his thoughts at the moment, as fully as he was occupying her twat.

The redhead had gone wild as her orgasm had started to twist and coil through her belly. Her haunches flew about. Her thighs worked like pistons, going up and down past his flanks. She arched her back, and her head switched from side to side, red hair cascading across her lust-contorted face like tongues of flame. Her pussy felt so hot as he buried his prick up it that it was threatening to melt at any moment -- like a wax candle around his hard wick.

Cuntjuice fairly streamed from her pussy, pumped out by his tight-fitting plunger and running down into the crack of her ass, soaking the beer crate on which she perched.

She threw her head back and her throat worked as if she were drinking -- or, perhaps, howling at the moon, as the animal passion filled her.

Then Clyde joined her at the peak.

He whacked in hard and deep. As his cockhead plowed into the hot depths of her cunt, he blew his load so suddenly that it seemed that his peckerhead had had a blow-out, like an over-inflated tire. He hosed her womb down with thick cream and, when she felt that juice speeding into her loins, Rosy reacted with redoubled energy, her haunches grinding wildly as she drove herself on through the rippling stages of her own climax. Clyde had been so worked up that he shot his whole wad in that initial prolonged geyser.

His balls emptied, and it burst out. Then his dick began to soften immediately.

He stopped moving then, but for his heaving chest as he panted for air, kneeling between her spread thighs. Rosy continued to wriggle on the crate as she worked off her own climax to the last lovely drops.

When Clyde pulled his cock from her cunt, a creamy flood of jism and cuntjuice gushed from the vacated tunnel. His big dick flopped up and down, then sank along his thigh.

His cockhead was streaked with cream.

Rosy's panties were still wrapped around her ankle. Clyde lifted her foot and wiped the head of his dick clean on her already soggy panties.

Rosy laughed.

He tucked his pecker back into his pants and zipped his fly up quickly and defensively. But Rosy, too, had had enough and made no attempt to keep him from putting his prick away. She stood up with cream pouring down her legs. She pulled her soaking panties up her thighs and fitted them neatly, although soggily, around her hips and crotch.

Rosy was used to having wet pants.

Then they went back to the bar and Clyde bought her the promised drink. He had another beer, but he sipped at it only from habit, as his thoughts were elsewhere.

Rosy noticed that he was distracted.

It was not usual to see Clyde Wilson in a preoccupied state of mind -- except when he was preoccupied with lewd thoughts while his cock was hard.

"A penny for your thoughts," she said.

"Huh?" He looked at her. Then her words registered and he grinned mysteriously.

"They're worth a whole lot more than a penny," he told her with a slow wink that was supposed to be meaningful but, obviously, meant nothing to Rosy.

She turned back to her drink. If Clyde was keeping his thoughts to himself, it meant nothing to her. She had already had his dick and he had bought her a drink -- she'd been a bit worried about that until it was in hand, because sometimes men reneged on their promises once they had gotten their rocks off -- and anyhow, she couldn't imagine Clyde having any thoughts that would interest anyone but Clyde.

"A car..." he said, nodding to himself, "I'd better borrow a car. You don't have, a car, do you, Rosy?"

"Hell, no. A car? I'm a barfly, for crissake, Clyde. You know that. I fuck for drinks... why in hell would a girl like me have a car?"

"I wasn't thinking," he said.

But he had been. He smiled again. "How about a camera?" he asked. Clyde, little by little, was putting his blackmailing scheme together.

CHAPTER FOUR

When Charles got home, Marlene was very attentive and on her best behavior. She was deeply ashamed of what she'd done that afternoon -- although the thought still thrilled her to the core -- and she tried to make it up to Charles without revealing that she had anything to make up to him.

When she fetched him his slippers, and a drink, he looked at her with an amused expression.

"Well?" he asked.

"Hummmm?"

"What did you do?"

"What? I don't..."

"You obviously did something awful today, darling. You're never this nice to me unless you've been naughty."

Marlene blushed bright as a beet.

Good Lord, had he guessed? Was her sin stamped upon her brow like a scarlet letter? Was her breath scented by Billy Wilson's cum? Was the outline of the boy's cock still indented into her cheek?

But then Charles said, "Did you dent the car?"

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Certainly not!" she said.

"Well, you're acting very strange. I'm sure that you must have some reason. Either you did something naughty, or you want a new dress."

Marlene saw the perfect explanation.

She smiled and averted her gaze.

"Am I so obvious?" she asked.

"I can read you like a book," Charles said.

Wait until you get to the page where I start giving head to shoeshine boys, she thought.

But she wasn't worried now. That was not a passage that he would ever read.

She said, "The truth is... I've been so very horny all day, darling. I get embarrassed about it... so I thought maybe if I treated you extra nice, you might get feeling a bit randy, yourself... and take the initiative."

"Why, you minx," he said, not at all displeased by her logical explanation. "You never have to be evasive about that... anytime you want sex, I'm ready."

His affectionate agreement made his wife feel even more ashamed of the way she had misbehaved.

She wasn't, in fact, feeling particularly randy at the moment, having had a lovely hand job just before he got home, but she figured she had better follow through with the pretense. And it was no hardship, either. Despite her unholy lust for young boys, she still loved her husband and enjoyed fucking him.

She grinned sheepishly -- carefully designing that expression deliberately -- and lifted her dress.

"I didn't wear any panties," she said. "Just in case."

Charles gazed at her delectable cunt and his eyes began to gleam. A twitch rose at the front of his pants.

"Shall we go to bed?" he asked.

"You haven't finished your drink, darling." He glanced at it, as if surprised to discover a glass in his hand. He shrugged.

"And I haven't put your slippers on yet."

Charles realized that his wife had ideas other than a standard bedroom fuck. That suited him nicely.

He sipped his martini.

Marlene knelt down and unlaced his shoes. She took them off. She removed his socks and put his slippers on. Then her hands continued up his legs, rubbing his calves and massaging his hard thighs. He reclined on the easy chair, his body slightly bridged so that his pelvis was lifted. He sipped his cocktail, watching her through narrowed eyes and smiling contentedly. He was quite happy to have her take the initiative, to choreograph the sex any way she chose.

Her hands moved over his crotch.

His prick hardened in his trousers, growing fat and lifting his fly like a tent.

Marlene massaged him until his cock was throbbing.

Then she sat back on her heels and pulled her dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor at her side. As her bare body came into view, her husband sighed appreciatively.

"You could be a centerfold," he said.

Marlene smiled, taking it as a compliment.

Charles often complimented her in a similar fashion, telling her how well she would photograph, rather than directly admiring her body. She wondered why that was.

But she thought nothing of it.

Marlene, who was kinky for young boys, had no idea that her husband had certain kinks of his own.

She leaned over his loin's again.

She opened his belt and drew his zipper down. He wore black nylon shorts, and those elastic shorts were stretched taut by his rampant cock so that they stood up from his open fly. The material was molded to the contours of his cock so that the outline of his cockhead and shaft was definite -- like a negative of his prick in black.

Marlene eyed that impressive black lump and her eyes began to shine and her pussy began to get juicy.

She folded her fist around the shaft and skimmed up and down, drawing the black nylon even tighter over his cock. It loomed up from her fist like a big-headed war club.

She leaned over him.

She took his nylon-sheathed cockhead into her mouth and began to suck it right through the material.

Charles gazed down, watching his wife's lips pull on that black-clad prick. It was very erotic. It as almost as if he were watching her suck another man's cock -- some alien man made of smooth black nylon, his balls filled with ebony cum.

Charles would have loved to take a photograph of Marlene sucking on that jet black prick.

There were a lot of photographs that Charles would have liked to take, in fact.

But he had never revealed his quirk to his wife. He didn't think that Marlene would appreciate it. He had taken a few pictures of her once when she was asleep, and he kept them hidden away, looking, at them once in a while and getting horny as hell when he did so. But he knew it would be much more erotic if she were to pose for pictures, rather than be an innocent slumbering subject.

Someday, if he could figure out how to bring the idea up without embarrassing her.

But at the moment he was taking no pictures, although his eyes flashed like the lenses of a camera as he watched her mouth his nylon-covered dick.

Her head bobbed up and down. Her lips unpeeled around the dark stalk as she sucked. She went far down the shaft, slurping the drawn-up nylon into her mouth like a cloak around his cock. Then she pulled her lips away and used her tongue for a moment, running it in long fluid strokes up his cockshaft and across his cockhead.

A damp patch appeared on the tightly stretched nylon that sheathed his knob. Marlene squealed with pleasure as she saw that oily manifestation of her oral skill. She pulled the elastic band of his brick out and drew them down, baring his big prick.

Charles had a long fat cock with a thick ventral vein that, at the moment, was pulsating darkly. His cockhead was flared and flushed.

Marlene was trying her very best to concentrate on her husband's prick and not to think about Billy Wilson's young cock -- not to make any comparisons.

The tip, cleft parted wide, was slippery with a flow of preliminary cum. The juice bubbled from the slit and foamed down the smooth cockhead.

Marlene bent down again and used her tongue to lave that creamy knob, gathering his juices up and savoring them on her taste buds for a moment, then swallowing them down. After she had laved his knob sparkling clean, she slipped her mouth over it in a tight collar and sucked so hard she seemed to be inhaling his cockmeat right down into her lungs.

"Unnggghh!" she gasped as she filled her throat with the hot slab.

He spilled a trickle of cum into her gullet.

Marlene would have liked to suck him off, and she knew that he would love it. It would sort of make it up to him for already milking a young boy's dick that day. But in another way, it almost seemed as if it would make her sin even worse -- blowing her husband just after she had given head to another man. Well, it struck her as the sort of thing that would make her infidelity even more depraved.

Then, too, with, a dick in her mouth, it was hard not to remember how Billy's young prick had tasted and how it had filled her mouth with cum.

She sighed and dragged her lips away, giving him a last loving slurp on the knob as she retreated.

Charles waited patiently, his cock booming, letting his horny wife use his prick as she pleased.

She cupped her plump tits in both hands and pushed them together into a deep cleavage. Then she moved closer and folded those creamy tits around his cock.

Charles began to hump out of the chair, fucking her between the boobs with long slow strokes.

His swollen, smoking cockhead came pushing out from her cleavage and ran up her breastbone almost to her throat, then dipped down again, disappearing into the soft crack between her fat tits.

The tip was frothy again.

Marlene laid her chin against her breastbone and, as his cockhead came squeezing out from her cleavage, she laved it with her nimble tongue, lapping up the delicious cream.

His cockhead was ballooning. She knew that he was going to shoot very soon.

She figured it was about time to get that big pecker stuffed up her slippery cunt.

She rose up slowly and moved her knees toward the chair, one on either side of his hips so that she was straddling him. His cock was pressed into her soft belly, indenting the flesh from the outside just as it would soon be from within. His balls were jammed against ha crotch and his big knob stretched all the way up her belly. It thrilled her to realize how deep it would fill her pussy when he was inside her cunt.

Her thighs tightened.

She rose up high and his peckerhead slipped into her creamy pussy. She perched on the tip for a moment like a flagpole sitter, with her cuntlips pulling on his meaty slab. Then she slowly settled down onto his prick, taking it inch by inch up her steaming hole.

She settled down until every inch of his cockmeat was buried up her pussy.

Linked to the hilt, they smiled contentedly at each other as she knelt over him.

Then Marlene began to go up and down on his cock and Charles fucked up from the chair, moving in counterpoint. As she lowered her smoldering cunt onto him, he pushed up into her; as she rose on trembling thighs, he sank back.

Her cunt clutched him like a tight-fitting glove the muscles dragging at his prick. She twisted her pelvis from side to side, adding torque to the vertical friction.

Her pussy was foaming, the cream running down the crease of her thighs and onto his balls. His heels drummed on the floor and he arched his back further, so that his pecker rose up high, the full length entering her. Then she threw her head and shoulders back, her lithe torso bending with lust. Her belly slid against his. Her knees embraced his flanks and she used his cock like a crank against her cunt, a crowbar with which to pry the climax from her cunt.

She began to whimper.

Charles had been holding back as best he could. Now, seeing that his wife was about ready to cream, he began to plow into her cunt, timing it so they could come together. His fat stalk slammed upward like a rocket.

"Come!" she cried. Then: "I'm coming, darling... came with me... shoot it up my cunt!"

Charles groaned and his cock went off like a geyser, blowing his led into her womb with such power that her slender hips were rattled by the spurt. He hosed her pussy down with load after load, his dick working like a fire extinguisher, as if to quell the flames of her cunt with his heavy foam.

Her cunt creamed on his cock as his jism played the catalyst, changing her cunt to juice.

Marlene went up and down jerkily, torn by the spasms of her cunt. Charles groaned as he darted his cum into her and emptied his balls to the dregs.

Then she pressed herself to him and, still coupled at the crotch they kissed lovingly.

She really did love him. If only she hadn't lusted for young boys.

But she had.

CHAPTER FIVE

Charles had been turned on by photography for a long time, but he had kept his kinky desires secret from his wife, just as she had kept her passion for young boys secret from Charles. Charles was slightly embarrassed by his turn-on -- not that it was shameful in itself but because of the way that his fetish for film had begun.

Unlike Marlene's lust for youth, which had grown gradually over the years and which she had never really tried to find a psychological reason for, Charles knew perfectly well why he got turned on by taking pictures of naked women. He could place it to the minute.

Charles had been a teenager and a virgin -- but a horny virgin. He jacked off with regularity. Whenever he found himself alone for five minutes, he pulled his cock. Bedrooms, bathrooms, closets -- they were all the same to randy young Charles -- give him a place to stand and he would produce his cock and move his dream world. At school he whacked off in the lavatory, the locker room, the cloakroom. In history class, where his desk was at the very back of the room, he pulled his prick under his desk.

Once, during a blackout, he came in the corridor. He poured out cum by the bucketful and the more he spilled the more his potent young balls seemed to produce, as if operating on the law of supply and demand that he had learned in economics class while shooting a creamy wad into a copy of Adam Smith.

In those days, his masturbation fantasies had no direction. His tastes were all-encompassing and comprehensive. Sometimes he thought about girls he knew, sometimes film stars or characters in comic books.

He liked to look at dirty pictures, of course, and did so at every opportunity, but at that time they had not assumed any great importance in his carnal category. He would much rather have looked at a flesh-and-blood girl than a photograph.

Two girls had allowed him to feel their tits, one inside the training bra she wore. One other girl had once rubbed his dick through his jeans so that he'd come in his pants. That was the extent of his experience.

Then he discovered that his father had a collection of naughty photographs.

He had discovered that one day when he had come home from school early and entered quietly, because he wanted to sneak straight up to his bedroom for a pull without having to pause for a conversation with his parents.

His route took him past his parents' bedroom.

The door was ajar and he glanced in, feeling guilty because he was en route to a hand job -- and then he blinked and saw that there was, no reason for him to feel guilty at all, unless his father was equally, guilty, for that gentleman was stretched out on the bed with his fat cock in one hand and a cluster of photos in the other.

He had the photos spread out like a hand of cards and he was studying them intently, his eyes shifting back and forth along the line.

His other hand went up and down his cock. Amazed and intrigued, Charles crouched in the hallway and peered around the doorjamb.

Then his mother walked into the bedroom from the attached bathroom.

Oh, boy! Dad's in trouble now, thought Charles. From the perspective of his own station in life, he supposed that getting caught masturbating was always shameful.

Then he was even more amazed.

His mother was stark naked, glistening from the shower -- and she was smiling!

Charles gasped.

His mother lay down beside his father.

"Here, let me do that," she, said.

The man took his hand off his prick and the woman put her hand on it and began pumping it steadily up and down.

Charles thought he was going to faint. That may have been from shock or it may have been because so much blood had suddenly rushed into his cock that his brain was starved for oxygen, for the sight had given him an instant hard-on.

Having a free hand now, his father cupped his mother's cunt and began to caress that hairy slot.

And they looked at the photographs together!

"I like this one best," the man said.

"Ummm... that is a nice one."

"This is a pretty sexy one, too."

"You're a very good photographer," she said.

"Well, I had an interesting subject."

Charles was getting shock after stunning shock. From that conversation he deduced that these were no commercial dirty pictures, but that his father had been behind the camera. He realized they were Polaroid pictures.

His parents were depraved!

Charles felt quite proud of them.

They lay shoulder to shoulder, masturbating one another as they studied the photographs and Charles, kneeling in the hallway, simply had to produce his own prick. He began to pump it up and down to the same tempo with which his mother was stroking his father's dick, emulating her rhythm -- the child learning from the parents.

His mother began to squirm. His father began to groan.

Her crotch had opened, her cuntlips folding back so that the slit became a slot and the slot filled up with a flood of juice that looked like melted ivory.

His father's peckerhead was flaring and smoking.

But even as the thrill took them, both of them continued to look at the pictures.

Charles was so excited that he shot first, even though he'd started later than his father had. His cum splattered against the wall, running down like hot lead from his fiery soldering prick.

He blew a tremendous load out, but he was so inspired that his dick did not falter at all and he kept right on pumping, intent on a second orgasm, never missing a stroke.

His eyes were fixed on his parents.

He saw a creamy jet spurt from his father's cockhead and run down the purple slab, welling up against his mother's thumb and index finger. She continued to pump, milking his father's cock to the dregs.

Her hips were dancing a wild gavotte and her belly humped up and down. Her ass came up from the bed. A long moan escaped from her throat and her pussy creamed on the man's massaging hand.

Charles shot a second thick wad against the wall.

It had been the most exciting time of his young life.

He got his handkerchief out and wiped the wall as best he could while, in the bedroom, his father got up on weak knees and crossed to the dresser with the photographs. He put them away in a drawer.

Charles took careful note which drawer it was.

He had every intention of having a look at those pictures at his very first opportunity. He got his chance the very next day.

It was Saturday and he had no school. His father had driven his mother to the shopping plaza and Charles knew that he would have at least an hour alone at home -- time enough to jack off four times, at least.

He went up to his parents' bedroom. His dick was already hard with expectation, but he left it in his pants for the moment, wanting to have those pictures in his left hand before he pumped himself off with his right. Then, he thought, he would switch and do it again. He was an ambidextrous wanker, almost as proficient at milking out cum from the sinister side as he was from the dextrous, and it made for a nice change -- jacking off left handed was almost like getting it from someone else.

He pulled the drawer out, stepping back so that it didn't raw into his towering hard-on.

He peered into the drawer and frowned. He didn't see the pictures but he saw something else and for a moment he couldn't believe his eyes. Could that possibly be what he thought it was?

He took the object out.

It was most definitely what be thought it was, and the horny lad's head reeled.

It was a big rubber dick!

Charles had seen pictures of dildos and he knew what they were and what they were used for, but he was astounded to discover that they were used by mothers.

The thought made him so hot that he was afraid he would come in his pants and, just to be on the safe side, he opened his fly and hauled his prick out.

His cock was as big as the rubber dick, he saw, taking pride in the comparison.

He put the dildo aside and began to rummage through the drawer. It was his mother's drawer, not his father's, and it made the boy even hotter to realize that the dirty photographs were the woman's possession -- or at least were in her keeping, stored there amidst her bras and panties.

He found the Polaroid pictures.

He avoided looking at them for the moment, wanting to get comfortable first. He went over and stretched out on his parents' bed. He positioned himself just as his father had been. He folded his hand around his root and then he fanned the pictures out and looked at them.

There were six pictures.

Two showed a naked woman in erotic postures, with her legs spread. The other four showed the same woman in company with a man, and then with two men. The details had not registered on Charles at first. There was such a wealth of erotica there, such an overkill of jack-off lore, that the boy could not seem to concentrate.

He decided to look at the photos one at a time, jerking off over each one, starting with the least erotic -- the woman on her own -- and then going on to the combinations.

He gazed at the first photo and began to run his fist up and down his dick. He looked at the woman's tits. Then he looked at her cunt. Then he looked at her face.

"Oh my God!" said the startled lad.

It was his mother!

She was stretched put on her back, her legs apart, one hand cupped over her hairy pussymound with the fingers trailing into her juicy snatch.

His father had taken a photo of his mother while she played with her twat!

As soon as his initial shock and amazement had passed, Charles began to grin. He was so thrilled that he forgot to pump his prick, which was bounding and bucking as it demanded manual attention.

Well, that wasn't really so naughty, he thought. After all, they were married. They fucked and all. Charles didn't see that he should castigate them for taking photos.

But then he had another thought.

Who was the woman [missing text].

Then the other pictures -- with them? If it was his mother and father, then who had taken the photo? And in one picture the woman had been with two men...

Almost afraid of what he would find -- or not find, as the case may be -- the boy spread the stack of pictures out in his shaking hand and stared at them.

It was his mother in every picture.

And his father was in none of them.

Charles recognized the two men. They were neighbors. He realized that they must have been invited in for this photography session, performing while his father worked the camera. He was in such a state that he totally ignored his pecker as he studied the Polaroid shots.

One showed his mother getting fucked missionary fashion, her long legs wrapped around Ben Carter's haunches and a smile of ecstasy on her face.

Another showed her sitting on Norman Johnson's cock, her ass raised on the upstroke so that the boy could see the man's thick cock disappearing into her pussy.

The next photo had caught her on her knees, getting doggy fucked by Carter while she sucked on Johnson's dick. There was cum running down her chin.

Sweating and trembling, Charles looked at the final photo. This too featured both men. His mother had just finished jerking them both off and spunk was running over her face and down her tits, dripping from her nipples and pooling in her belly button. Her tongue was out and silvery jism glistened on the moist pink surface.

Charles groaned.

Then, staring at the incriminating photographs, he pulled himself off five times in rapid succession.

Ever since that memorable day, Charles Metcalf had been a freak for dirty pictures.

Even as a teenager, he had had a healthy attitude toward sex and he figured that as long as his father did not mind, there was nothing wrong in what his mother had done -- what she had posed for.

Charles, as soon as he could, bought himself a camera. He photographed girls every chance he got. But although he enjoyed taking pictures of naked strangers or casual acquaintances, his dream was to someday get his wife to pose for erotica.

Perhaps a kink like that was hereditary, he speculated.

He was dying to make the suggestion to Marlene. But he was positive that she would be shocked and outraged and think he was a terrible pervert. He hadn't even dared to ask her to pose naked solo, let alone suggest that she might let him photograph her with another man -- or men.

It was the only source of frustration in what, for Charles, was a very satisfactory sex life and a happy marriage.

Someday he was determined to work up the nerve to bring the conversation around to the subject. If only something would happen that would help him initiate the suggestion.

Charles was going to get lucky.

CHAPTER SIX

Marlene was dreaming.

It was an exciting dream and she was shifting and whimpering as the details moved through her slumber. She was smiling and, had her eyes been open, they would have been shining with passion.

Marlene was dreaming that she was an officer in the army, and that, she was in charge of training a group of young raw recruits. The troops were all eighteen years old, tall, lean and fit from basic training. They had short hair and muscular necks. And they were armed with cocks like cannons.

Marlene was putting them through a drill.

She had them marching in formation before her as she reclined on a bed that, in her dream, did not seem at all out of place on the parade grounds.

She lined them up for inspection.

They were in full uniform, polished and pressed, but their cocks were out in place of rifles. The big cock heads gleamed like the toes of polished boots and their bloated balls hung like grenades, ready to explode as soon as someone pulled the pin. She gave the commands. They shouldered arms -- not an impossible feat in a dream, where their peckers were so long. She inspected that formidable array of ordinance, making sure that the barrels were well oiled and that not a single speck of dust marred the smooth muzzles.

Then she started them marching through a square formation, wheeling them left so that, one by one in column, they marched up to the bed and bayonetted her pussy. They each shot after a single stroke, which was absolutely satisfactory since she had a whole army to fuck. In perfect order they marched, wheeled, stabbed and shot. Marlene had trained them well -- they had this drill down to a science.

She whimpered in her sleep as she took the creamy artillery into her hairy target, one by one, until the army had shot off every single round and left the armory bare.

Vaguely she realized that she must be dreaming. Reality could never be this wonderful. Even as these eighteen-year-old soldiers put the meaty weapons to her, she thought that in her next dream it might be nice to command a military academy where the boys were a bit younger -- but just as formidably armed.

Like jungle fighters, they advanced through her pubic forest; like guerrillas, they moved into her swamp; they charged like cavalry and invaded her cunt in armored columns.

It was a lovely dream.

And Charles, watching his wife have her wet dream, was enjoying it as much as she was.

It was early morning with pearly light at the window, and she had awakened him with her shifting and whimpering. Charles was delighted when he realized that Marlene was creaming in her sleep. He watched her face as it twisted in lust and then he watched her nipples as they exploded. He gazed in adoration at her cunt as the slot filled with pussy-juice.

Charles simply had to take a picture of her! He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could, terrified that he might awaken her. But Marlene had no intention of waking from her ecstasy until she had drained the resources of her private army into her private arsenal.

He crept to the closet and got his camera out.

Crouching at the foot of the bed, he began to click the camera from a cock's viewpoint, focusing directly on her flooded snatch but making sure that her lust-contorted face was also in the frame. He took half a dozen pictures.

It was a Polaroid camera and he was dying to see the results when they emerged, but he was afraid that Marlene might awaken and find him with the evidence of his kinkiness. He decided he had better secrete the film and save his visual titillation for a later -- and safer -- moment.

He put the still cloudy photos in the breast pocket of a jacket that was hanging in the closet. He left the camera on the dresser. Then he went back to bed.

Charles, aroused by his wife's condition as well as his sneaky camera work, decided that he would benefit from the aroused state of her succulent pussy.

He decided to eat her out as she slept and dreamed.

He slid belly-down between her widespread thighs. He gazed at her lovely cunt for a few moments, until he began to drool for that succulent treat. His tongue came out, lapping at the inside of her thigh.

She moaned but did not awaken.

He ran his tongue up her thigh and licked at the crease, then switched over and repeated the tongue-stroke on the other leg. She was whimpering steadily now, low muffled sounds coming from her dream world like some mystic link between reality and fantasy.

He touched the tip of his cunt-hungry tongue to her stiffened cunt.

"Ooooooh," she murmured.

He flicked across the turbulent nugget of sensation a few times, then began to lick out her gaping slot and trace along her parted cuntlips with soft fluid strokes.

His nimble tongue added a new dimension to Marlene's dream. She began to move her hips with spasmodic jolts and thrusting heaves that ground her cunt into Charles' face. His lips parted and he tilted his head to the side, so that his mouth was fitted to her cunt as if those lips were another, mouth which he was passionately French kissing.

He stabbed his tongue as far up her creamy smoldering hole as it would delve. He sucked avidly at the fount, causing her to writhe and squirm even more. He turned his face to and fro in her crotch, until his countenance was soaked with pussy-juice from chin to brow and from ear to ear. His mouth was filling up with the sweet stuff. It flowed over his questing tongue and poured past his sucking lips. He gulped it down voraciously but the more he swallowed, the more her pussy yielded.

Charles was excited by the whole situation. Eating out a creamy pussy was always a joy, but doing it while his wife was asleep and dreaming added a dark twist to the thrill.

He used his fingers to spread her cunt further open, so that his tongue could push deeper up the hole. He rubbed her cunt to a froth. He began to finger-fuck her cunt with three fingers alongside his tongue, while his lips worshipped at the tingling bud of her passion.

His cock was so hard and hot now that it was pushing down into the mattress and levering his haunches up in the air like a crowbar prying under his ass.

But he ignored his cock as he concentrated on tonguing her snatch, paying great attention to details, making sure he was pleasuring her in as many ways as he could think of -- labial, lingual, buccal, even dental, as he very tenderly nibbled upon her lust-engorged clit. He blew his hot breath up her cunt; he inhaled back out. His fingers spread a passage for his tongue and he forked out great tonguefuls of cuntjuice, dipping in, spooning, stirring. He was frolicking like a playful porpoise between her slick thighs, gobbling from her hairy cream-bowl with hearty appetite and ravenous gusto.

Marlene moved slowly and sinuously, undulating to the tempo of her rising lust. Her long legs twisted around his head and shoulders and her belly weaved back and forth before his face. Her loins were cupped, her haunches hooked, and as the thrill grew she began to move even more frantically.

Her dream had gone out of focus as the reality of her husband's oral love shoved it aside. The continuity was broken, and a series of fleeting images flitted through her mind. She was a submarine taking torpedoes up her tube; a landing craft loading elongated tanks; a long-range bomber refueling from a fat tube in mid-flight; a naval target into which rocket after rocket sped in fiery flight and explosive contact.

Her eyes opened.

"What..." she murmured, still not aware of where she was or what was happening.

And then, while she was still in a state of confusion somewhere between being asleep and being wide awake, her orgasm reached the peak. She cried out in a long low wail, followed by a series of gasps as her cunt flowed with the lava of lust and erupted with the volcanic power of her climax.

Charles sucked and tongued her creamy feast until he was sure he had pulled every spasm of her orgasm from her loins. Then he raised his head and gazed up at her face along the line of her arched body over the gentle swell of her belly, between the twin hills of her tits.

He was grinning happily.

His cock was in a torment of neglect but he had enjoyed eating her cunt out so much that he ignored that raging rod that was thumping away against the mattress.

Marlene smiled back.

"I... I was dreaming."

"I know."

"You... noticed?"

"Ummm... it must have been a lovely dream... the way your cunt was creaming."

His eyebrows rose.

Marlene knew he wanted her to tell him what she had been dreaming about, but a dream, of an army of horny youths was too close to her waking inclinations for her to reveal it to her husband.

Instead, she gave, a little flutter of her eyelashes and flipped her hips suggestively.

"Why don't you fuck me now?" she said.

The moment he heard that, Charles forgot all about such vague things as dreams. His cock was so hot, he felt as if it were burning a charred patch in the sheet.

He began to move up her body.

He kissed her damp belly and pushed his tongue into her belly button. Moving higher, he ran his tongue around the lower sweep of her fat tits and then circled up, his tongue tracing a spiral trail, as if climbing a winding mountain road toward the prominent peak. He licked her nipples, switching his face back and forth from one to the other. Then he sucked them into his mouth, alternating. The taut tips flared in his lips and she sighed with pleasure, holding her hands to his cheeks and pulling his mouth tight to her tits.

His cock skimmed against her knee and the knob banged against her soft smooth thigh as it crept inexorably toward the V of her loins.

He moved higher.

He kissed Marlene on the lips and his cockhead nestled into her flooded cunt. Her mouth opened and he pushed his tongue in. She sucked on it. She could taste her own cuntjuice on his lips and tongue and it thrilled her. He drew his tongue back and her own tongue followed, entwined with his, into his mouth. He sucked on her tongue in turn.

Then he slipped his cock up her cunt, plowing in all the way with one long rippling stroke that filled her well oiled tunnel with pecker and buried every inch of his vibrant throbbing prick in that soft hot hole.

Although she had come in his mouth only moments before, the instant that Marlene felt her pussy stuffed with cockmeat she began to squirm and squeal with a renewed charge of passion. Her hips rolled, her ass twisted, her pelvis jerked up and down. Charles started to pour the prick to her with volatile energy, fucking her burning cunt with gusto.

Marlene clawed at his shoulders, as if she were trying to physically drag herself onto the heights of sensation.

His cock slammed in, pulled back to the knob and banged in again, his movements as regulated and as steady as a machine -- a piston gliding into a lubricated chamber, ball bearings turning with fluid ease, the linkage between them moving her body with his like some intricate erector set with the wheels turning and the gears engaged.

It was a high-compression fuck. Her loins began to steam; his cock was smoking; steady as a locomotive, he chugged in and out.

He soared to the heights. His lust had grown to a frantic state while, neglecting his dick, he tongued her pussy. Now the pent-up load exploded like a bomb, racking his belly and shattering his thighs. His ass recoiled from his tremendous spurt.

He blew a great wad of steaming cum up her pussy and Marlene wailed with joy and came with him in a creamy maelstrom. They slammed together, jerked erratically and then, both spent, collapsed together with contented sighs.

Charles stroked her tit, tenderly but without passion, his loins drained for the moment.

"I'm starving, honey," he said.

Marlene, still enveloped in the mood of lust, misunderstood his meaning.

"Why don't you eat my pussy again?" she said.

Charles laughed.

"No... I meant really starving... for breakfast."

Marlene was surprised. Charles didn't normally eat breakfast. She supposed that all his sexual activity had given him a remarkable appetite or that the hors d'oeuvre of cunt and cuntjuice had sparked his hunger.

"I'll bring you breakfast in bed," she said.

"Would you? That would be great!"

It's the least I can do, after sucking off a shoeshine boy, thought the guilt-ridden wife.

She got up and put a robe on -- the same filmy garment which she had worn in order to accidentally give the neighbor boy a look at her pussy, in fact -- and padded from the bedroom to make her cuckolded husband some breakfast.

As soon as he heard her go down the stairs, Charles hopped out of bed.

He seldom ate breakfast and he wasn't at all hungry now, but it had been the simplest excuse he could think of to get his wife out of the room.

Charles was eager to look at the photographs of his sleeping wife's creamy cunt.

He went over to the closet and removed them from the pocket of his jacket. He grinned wryly at the thought that he was literally acting like a closet pervert as, standing in the tiny cubicle, he looked at the pictures.

His cock came up like a steam shovel.

He admired the photos for a while, then put them back in the jacket. He would have to find some safe place to keep them -- safe, but easily accessible -- so that he could look at them and excite himself whenever he chose.

He flirted with the idea of showing them to Marlene.

If she didn't object, he might work the conversation around to other photographic studies -- solitary poses, at first and then -- his cock thundered at the thought -- he might ask her if she would pose with another man while he captured the glorious scene on film.

The concept made him tremble. He was sweating. He could think of nothing more thrilling than taking pictures of Marlene with a strange man, doing everything that two people could possibly do in bed.

If only she would.

But Charles was afraid to suggest it. He was sure that Marlene would be furious and disgusted.

He believed his wife to be pure and faithful. Presently she came back to the bedroom with a tray, and Charles forced himself to eat bacon and eggs, wishing he had told her he was parched for coffee instead of hungry. He watched her as he ate but he couldn't work up the nerve to make the suggestion that he so much longed to make.

He sighed. Well, he simply had to take some photographs that day. He would much rather take pictures of Marlene, but he didn't dare ask, and, he knew another girl [missing text].

He pushed the tray aside.

He said, "I forgot to tell you... I have to run down to the office this afternoon. Some paperwork that has to be finished by Monday morning."

Marlene looked at him and nodded. He noticed that it was a sort of strange glance she had given him, and he hoped that she was not suspicious of his reasons for going out.

But there was no suspicion involved.

Marlene didn't trust herself, rather than not trusting her husband. She had hoped to spend the day with Charles so that she wouldn't be tempted to drive back to the slums and see that shoeshine boy again. She had hoped that her naughtiness of the day before would prove a one-time thing, that once she had acted out her fantasy of seducing a young boy she would be able to resist doing it in the future.

But she knew damn well that if she had to spend the day alone, she was going to start remembering how wonderful it had been to suck that sweet young pecker -- and the remembrance was going to make her so hot that she would simply have to finger-fuck herself. And a manual orgasm was not going to be satisfactory -- not when young Billy Wilson would be kneeling at his shoeshine box, hoping that Marlene would show up.

But she couldn't tell Charles why she didn't want to be left alone, of course. She would have to fight against the unholy urge -- if she only could.

So she just looked at him and nodded.

Charles got dressed. He had a bit of trouble getting his pants zipped up, because his cock kept sticking out of his fly. He left, carrying an empty briefcase. He had another camera that he kept at his office and he left the Polaroid on the dresser, having forgotten it was there.

Marlene didn't notice it.

Her thoughts were elsewhere.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The contingencies of circumstance were working against Marlene in her struggle to remain a faithful wife. The dice were loaded against fidelity.

She tried her best to occupy her mind and to avoid thinking lewd thoughts. But she made the mistake of looking out the back window.

And who should she see but Mike Parker!

And Mike was jerking off!

Young Mike had had a hard on continuously ever since, the morning before, he had gotten a look at Marlene's cunt. Mike was a virgin, but horny as a demented weasel.

He was in the habit of jacking off a great deal at the best of times and now, such was the inspiration of a look at Marlene's juicy cunt, he couldn't seem to empty his balls no matter how hard he tried.

He had seen a cunt!

The image was engraved on his mind. It seemed to have been stamped into his head as if by a branding iron, the sight trapped in his ocular nerves as if his eyes had filmed it. The images of fat tit and stiff nipples and hairy cuntmound were there, too, but mainly he remembered a wet pussy -- all pink and open with the slot filled with cream.

He had jacked off all afternoon, gone to bed early and jacked off under the covers until finally, exhausted and with his wrist aching, he had fallen asleep. He had awakened with a hard-on and had pulled it off twice before he got up. It did no good. His cock softened after he came, but then swelled up again moments later.

He decided to spend the whole day whacking off.

He jerked off in the bathroom, in the garage, back in his bedroom, kneeling in front of the minor and, when his mother went to the shop, in the kitchen. Mike liked to vary the scene of his masturbations. Just as a horny man likes to fuck a variety of women, so did Mike, a virgin, take pleasure in fucking his fist in different circumstances.

Haying already fucked most of the rooms in the house, he decided to fuck the bushes.

His house was divided from Marlene's by a fence, and the fence ended at a small stand of trees and bushes -- that little glade had been fertilized by Mike's cum many times before. He felt very secure there. He had checked it out carefully before the first time he had jacked off there, and had discovered that the bushes hid him from every window in his house. Mike was terrified that his mother might catch him at it sometime, but he was confident that she couldn't see him in the bushes.

He was single-minded about his security.

Mike was so careful to secrete himself from his mother's line of sight that it never occurred to the boy that he was plainly visible from Marlene's window.

He wandered along the fence and moved as casually as a boy with a hard-on can into the little glade. He stood with his back to his own house and looked over his shoulder just to make sure that no falling foliage might have opened a vista. No, he couldn't see the house except for the roof. Surely his mother couldn't see him.

He opened his pants and his cock jumped out like a coiled spring into his hand.

He took the fat stick like a relay, runner taking a baton, his hand already pumping steadily as the fat meat fell into his palm. He grimaced with pleasure. His lips drew back from his teeth and his eyes narrowed and slanted so that he looked like a mad Oriental weaving some inscrutable design.

And it was in that position that Marlene saw the boy.

She gasped. Her eyes went wide and she was starting to pant even before the truth of the scene had registered in her mind, her hot loins realizing what she was looking at before her mind did. Her features were contorted as if emulating the expression on the boy's lust-crazed face.

Oh! That naughty boy!

That lovely, delicious boy.

She wondered if he was jerking off because he had seen her cunt the day before, if he was thinking about her as he pulled his meat so frantically.

She hoped so.

She cupped her hand over her cunt.

Marlene was wearing hot pants, and hot was the operative word. Her pussy was burning like a fiery ember through the material and into her hand. But she didn't stroke her cunt; she just held it as if to contain her juicy passion.

Oh! I mustn't! Not Mike... not Julia Parker's son.

But Julia would never know, and...

The scene was just too thrilling. Marlene's good intentions melted away in the heat of her lust.

She knew what she would do. She would wander out into the yard and catch the boy at it -- as if by accident. He would be mortified, of course, and she might threaten to tell his mother what he was doing, just to make him more pliable. And then she could tell him that it was all right, that there was nothing wrong with masturbating -- but that it felt a whole lot nicer if someone else did it for you.

She would do it! She would pump that beautiful boy's big dick and watch the jism spurt, out.

Mike would love it. He would want more. Maybe they could arrange things so that he would call at her house every day for a hand-job, and in time, Marlene might move on to better things -- taking his cock in her mouth first and then up her cunt and.

It would be a handy situation. She had tried her best to avoid sex with the neighbor lad, but when a woman saw a lusty young man jerking off, all good intentions went for naught.

Her hands were tingling for a handful of cock, and her mouth was watering for a taste of pecker, and her pussy had started to cream in expectation.

Marlene hurried to the back door. But she was too late.

Mike was a quick-fire cock-wanker. Inspired more than he had ever been before, he had shot his wad within minutes and staggered off through the bushes.

When Marlene came wandering up, as if by chance, she found that the boy had gone.

She almost sobbed with disappointment. She stared at the bushes, and sure enough, she saw his cum hanging from the leaves and branches like congealing quicksilver. The woman was so aroused that she was tempted to get down on her knees and lick that wasted jism off the greenery.

Dizzy with lust, she moved away, intent on returning to her house and rubbing herself off, but knowing that her hand would be a poor substitute for young prick.

And as she came out from the bushes by the fence, she saw Julia Parker walking toward her.

Julia was a sexy woman in her thirties with long dark hair and big bouncy tits. She was wearing a light cotton dress that clung to her curves as she moved.

Seeing Marlene, she smiled in a neighborly fashion.

She leaned over the fence, her big tits thrusting out over the top.

Marlene, because she was so hot and bothered, felt like having a nice erotic conversation.

She said, "Well, not today, thank heavens."

"Oh?" Julia asked, her eyebrows arching. "Charles gave me some lovely head this morning."

"Lucky girl!"

"It was really weird. I was dreaming about naughty things. And when I woke up, Charles was going down on me and I had already started to cream." Julia was intrigued.

"Oh my!" she said. "How exciting and how lovely for you. Joe never goes down on me. He seems to think that it isn't manly... or maybe that a proper wife doesn't expect things like, that... I don't know. I wish he would. There's nothing that I like better than a good suck."

Marlene blinked. If Julia's husband didn't go down on her, and she liked head, that must mean.

She said, "That's awful. I certainly don't have that trouble. Charles would eat me out every day if I asked him to. But a girl can't get enough head, can she?"

"You feel that way, too, huh?"

"Of course."

Julia was looking at her in a speculative way.

"Have you ever..." she started, then hesitated. "Oh, nothing. It was just a thought."

"Tell me," said Marlene encouragingly.

"Well... I just wondered... have you ever thought about doing it with a woman? Getting head, I mean. And... giving it, too? I think about that sometimes." Julia was blushing a bit.

Marlene remembered how nice her own cuntjuice had tasted when Charles had kissed her after he had sucked her off.

She said, "Oh, I expect that all girls wonder what it would be like."

"Not with a lesbian," Julia added. "I don't mean that. Just two women who are good friends... like you and me, say... and they do each other a favor."

Now Marlene blushed slightly.

"Well, it was just a naughty thought," Julia said.

"Very naughty. But... exciting, too." Marlene smiled across the fence.

"Do you think so?" Julia said. "I... I don't suppose..."

"What are you thinking of, Julia?"

"Oh... you know... don't you?"

"Do you think that you and I might... do that?"

Julia nodded slowly, uncertainly. She obviously wanted to, but she was embarrassed. And Marlene, who had never considered actually doing such a thing but had been mildly curious about it -- and who at the moment was as hot as she could get -- began to think that it wasn't such an unlikely idea. It was sort of perverted, but they wouldn't really be perverted. It would just be sort of fooling around -- and it would be lots of fun, as well.

Because Julia had broached the subject, Marlene didn't feel embarrassed at all.

She said, "You want me to suck you off, don't you?"

"Oh, gosh! Would you?"

"I might."

"And I could do you, too."

They gazed at one another over the fence, as if that partition were an emotional barrier that they must cross.

Marlene crossed it.

"My house or yours?" she said.

Because of the danger that Mike might wander in on them, the women went to Marlene's house instead of Julia's. They were both giggling with nervous excitement. Although they were equally keen on the idea and determined not to back out, they were novices -- they didn't know quite how to start.

"I'll make coffee," Marlene said. Neither of them wanted coffee, but it served as a prelude. Julia sat on the couch and Marlene went into the kitchen. She returned and sat in a chair. They both fidgeted a bit. Neither knew quite how to begin.

Marlene was afraid that the moment might slip away from them if they delayed too long, and as hot as she was, she didn't want to risk having the chance come to nothing.

Julia had, after all, started it. Now Marlene figured that the next step was up to her.

She got up, moved to the couch and sat beside Julia.

She said, "I did a terrible thing yesterday."

"Did you? What was that?" Marlene slid her hand along the back of the couch, not touching Julia but encircling her.

"I was unfaithful to Charles."

"Really? How thrilling! Anyone I know?"

Marlene grinned. She had wanted to confess to someone, anyway, for she knew it would be thrilling to tell someone about her wicked misbehavior. Now she had a double-barreled motive, knowing that her confession would be Marlene was feeling Julia's tits and Julia began petting Marlene's boobs, too.

"Are we really going to do it?" Marlene asked, speaking right into Julia's mouth.

"I want to!" Julia replied.

"Let's! Oh, yes! Let's eat each other out!" There was not the slightest danger then that either of the lusty wives would back out.

They undressed each other.

Julia unbuttoned Marlene's blouse and drew it open, exposing her pert tits. Marlene pulled Julia's dress from her shoulders. Neither woman wore a bra. They stroked and petted each other's tits and pulled at the nipples. They pressed the big globes together and ran the tips against each other.

Then Marlene leaned back slightly and cupped her breasts up and out.

Julia needed no further encouragement. She bent down and began to lick at those taut nipples, then suck on them. After a moment, Marlene pushed her gently back and leaned down, herself, savoring her first ever suck of tit.

"Let's take everything off," Julia whimpered.

Marlene nodded eagerly.

Julia stood up and let her dress fall over her hips. She wore bikini panties, and the crotch was waking. She hooked her thumbs under the elastic band and pushed them down, exposing her black-bushed pussy. Naked, she sat down again and began to unfasten Marlene's shorts. She tugged them down.

Then, both stark naked, the two women began to kiss and feel each other up again. Neither had touched the other's cunt yet. This was the first time for both of them, and they were advancing by slow degrees. But neither of them had the slightest doubt that cunts were going to be touched in the end.

Julia's legs were parted.

She was sucking on Marlene's nipples, and Marlene reached down and stroked her thigh, then drew her hand up and ran her fingertips up the woman's wet crotch.

The moment that Marlene touched her cunt, Julia pushed her own hand down into Marlene's cunt eagerly. They kissed again, finger-fucking each other slowly and steadily, pushing stiff fingers up hot twats and wiping thumbs back and forth across tingling cunts, caressing each other to the same tempo.

"Shall I do you first?" Marlene asked. "I don't care," Julia panted. "I want you to... and I want to, as well. Oh, yes! Suck my cunt, Marlene."

"Sit back... relax... let me make it better."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Young Mike Parker, having shot his load in the bushes, had wandered back toward his house, passing along one side as his mother came down the other. He went inside. He was restless, and a great weariness had begun to descend upon him, for he had been jerking off steadily for twenty-four hours, with only a pause to sleep and eat. Even his teenaged potency had limits. His wrist and forearm were tired, and his dick was aching. His belly felt as if it had been scooped hollow.

He would be mighty glad when, at long last, he had masturbated a sufficient number of times.

But now his cock was quivering again. The sight he'd had of Marlene's pussy had been so inspirational that now, even though it hurt to get a hard-on, he couldn't help it. Like a martyr, his cock stood brave and rampant before his belly.

Mike decided to wait as long as he could before he pulled another load out.

He loosened his belt and fitted it around his cock so that the buckle held his peckerhead tight to his belly and he was able to walk around with the bas relief of a hard-on hidden behind his belt like a fat man wearing a corset to hide his paunch. His cock ached less, now that it was supported. Mike wandered around the house and then out to the back yard.

He had had no designs when he had gone out there, but the moment he saw Marlene's house across the fence he started walking in that direction. His cockhead dipped toward that house like a divining rod toward water.

Mike wouldn't mind having another look at Marlene's juicy cunt. Already in his memory, that wondrous cunt had assumed the proportions of myth and mystery, the stuff of legend, shrouded in illusion.

Mike figured he would ask if he could use her telephone again. He didn't get his hopes up, though -- it would be too much to expect the sexy woman to be wearing a flimsy negligee two days in a row. Still, he could try. Even if she were fully dressed, complete with chastity belt, just the close proximity of her sweet pussy would be thrilling.

He walked up along side the house, heading for the back door.

As he passed the window, he heard a whimper.

Mike, who always whimpered when he came, recognized that sound as having erotic overtones. He stopped as if frozen in mid-stride.

Was it possible that Marlene was entertaining a lover? Or maybe rubbing herself off?

Mike was drawn toward the window. He crept up, ducking under the sill, then lifted his head until his eyes came above the windowsill and he could look into the room.

His eyes bulged out, then narrowed, then grew wide again, as if they were shutters fluttering to his thundering heartbeat. He gripped the windowsill with both hands as his legs turned to water.

Marlene was naked, curled on the floor, her plump tits hanging down like ripe fruit ready to be plucked -- and her beautiful blonde head buried between ivory thighs!

Mike's eyes moved up to see who those trembling thighs belonged to.

And he saw his mother, her face twisted with wild passion, writhing and wriggling in the chair and grinding her crotch in Marlene's face. For an instant, the lad was numb with shock.

Then his dick surged with such power that it snapped his belt and his pants fell down and his cock jumped up like a rocket. Mike grabbed it fast, as if afraid that it would fly right off his loins and launch itself into space. He gave it two quick pulls and a white blossom flooded from the head.

His dick stayed hard. He pulled his pants up and staggered back toward his bedroom, where in due course, he collapsed in a state of total exhaustion and slept for twelve hours.

Sucking pussy was making Marlene almost as hot as the sight of that pussy-sucking had made Mike.

She loved it.

She had thought about doing it a few times, but never very seriously. Now that she was lapping away at that sweet honey pot, she realized that this was a joy that she had been missing -- far better in reality than it had ever been in her imagination and fantasy. It was so wonderful that she wasn't even embarrassed about her happy perversion -- although she certainly wouldn't have wanted anyone, man or woman, to know that she was a cuntsucker, tensed her tongue and began to take long slurping strokes up Julia's gash and across her vibrant cunt. Her head went up and down. She was laying Julia from asshole to cunt-bud with every long juicy stroke.

Cuntjuice flowed over her taste buds and dripped down her chin. She was salivating over the succulent cunt, drooling onto Julia's pussy-mound so that her saliva slid in bands through thick streams of pussy-cream.

She pushed her tongue up the hot cunthole and thrust it in and out with a darting motion. She took Julia's cunt into her mouth and sucked lovingly on the trembling nugget, then she tilted her head and fitted her parted lips to Julia's unfurled cuntlips, so that she had taken her whole pussy into her mouth. She began to suck ravenously.

Julia's meaty thighs clamped around her face, and her belly thrust up, pushing her cunt into Marlene's face and grinding it there as the thrill began to spin through her loins and knife up her thighs and set her mind twirling.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she gasped, a series of short sharp sounds, followed by a long drawn out wail of pure ecstasy: "Oooohhh..."

Her cunt creamed.

Julia trembled, then jerked a few times, as if she had been charged with a high-voltage current.

She stopped moving.

Marlene gobbled merrily away to make sure that she had worked out every spasm of Julia's orgasm. She slurped up every drop of that delicious juice.

"Oh, that was so good," Julia sighed.

Marlene raised her head, her jaws dripping cuntjuice. She smiled happily, pleased both that she had made it good for her friend and that it had been so good for her, as well. Even if she hadn't enjoyed it so much, she would have been willing to do it in order to get sucked off in return. But now that she knew how lovely it was to have hot pussy-cream in her mouth, she was delighted by the arrangement.

Neither of them ever need go un-sucked again.

Now it was Marlene's turn.

Julia was willing -- more than willing -- for she had noticed how much Marlene seemed to be relishing her feast and was eager to try it, herself. Now that her cunt was satisfied, her mouth had become her primary sex organ. Her lips parted, her tongue felt as sensitive as a clitoris -- she was literally hungry for cunt.

She slid down, her ass leaving the couch and resting on the floor. Her head tilted back, resting on the edge of the couch, turned up. Julia knew just how to do it -- as Marlene had, both of the randy women instinctive cunt suckers, skilled from the very first lick.

Marlene, hot as a pistol, started to juice almost at once. A small tremor shook her, then a larger spasm, then a series of peaks washing over across her loins in waves -- each wave following so quickly upon the one before that they blended into one prolonged thrill, a multiple orgasm without any hiatus between the thrilling peaks.

"Come... come... come for me," Julia whimpered.

She gulped the cuntjuice up with greed and slurped merrily away as her mouth filled with cream.

Afterwards, still naked and sitting side by side on the couch, the two women regarded each other in wonderment and awe.

"I thought I might be ashamed, afterwards," Julia admitted. "I wanted to so much, but I wasn't sure."

"Me you ashamed?"

"Oh, no!"

"Neither am I. I'm glad we did it."

"I guess... now that we've done it, I suppose we can do it for each other lots of times."

Marlene grinned and said, "Every day, if you like."

"It's funny... I wanted to get sucked off and I was willing to give head to get head, but now... why, it was almost more fun to do it than to get done!"

"Maybe next time we can do it at the same time," Marlene suggested, looking impish. "Sixty-nine."

"Oh! Shall we?"

"Why not? In fact, let's... right now!" Since each girl was as eager as the other, it was the most logical thing in the world and they glided together in the position of inverse love and, like some mythical two-headed serpent, they undulated together. Coming at the same time, they shared the creamy flow in absolute abandon. Gulping cuntjuice up at one end and pouring it out at the other, it seemed as if it was the very same load of liquid joy that was coursing through their vibrant bodies in a contained current, that they shared the same hot cuntjuice as well as the same electrifying thrill in that long drawn-out orgasm.

Julia left after that -- and after they had agreed to get together as soon a their husbands left for work on Monday morning.

She went home to make lunch for Mike, but she found the poor lad in a veritable coma of exhaustion. He was spread-eagled on his bed, and when she spoke to him, he didn't awaken. She decided to let him sleep. She thought that he must have been playing some vigorous game of baseball to get into such a state of fatigue.

Then, with a wicked gleam in her eyes, she pulled the sheet down and gazed at his sock.

She hadn't seen his cock in several years now, and she was curious to know if it was as big and shapely as his father's.

When she found that cock erect, she blinked.

Then she grinned. The boy was entitled to have a hard-on. She wondered if he jerked off. Well, of course he jerked off. He was a teenager.

Then she wondered if he was a virgin.

And then, by natural progression, she wondered what his big young dick tasted like.

She truly was a horny woman.

She stared at his cock and licked her lips and wondered if she dared to take it in her mouth. The idea of incest didn't bother her. It was depraved, of course, but all the more thrilling because of that -- the charm of utter depravity. But she was afraid that the boy might awaken if she commenced to suck his dick, and it would be hard to explain it to him if he were to catch her with a mouthful of cock. It wasn't the sort of thing that could easily be passed off as a mistake.

Still, he was sleeping so very soundly.

Julia leaned down and ran the tip of her tongue up his fat cockshaft and across the cockhead. The boy didn't stir. She licked again. His cock tasted of cum, she noted. That made it all the better. She simply couldn't help herself -- the licks had made her ravenous for cockmeat. She slurped his knob into her mouth and began to suck on it.

Looking out from under her hooded eyelids, she watched his face warily, ready to leap away if he showed any signs of waking. But Mike was dead to the world. His cock was still potent, but it was as if it were disembodied, for his mind had been drained along with his balls during twenty-four hours of nearly continuous masturbating.

Encouraged by the depth of his slumber, horny Julia settled down to suck him off.

She was surprised when the boy didn't shoot, immediately, for she thought it logical that a teenager with a hard-on would cream with little effort. But although his dick was iron hard and fiery hot, it showed no signs of ejaculating for a long time.

Now knowing that he had whacked off fanatically, Julia was bemused by this.

She was also pleased, for there were few more in the future.

Then she wondered if she would have the nerve to tell her good friend, Marlene, what she had done.

She didn't think she would dare. Still, Marlene had sucked off a shoe shine boy. And when they were both hot and hungry, shame held no dominion.

Why, she might even invite Marlene over for a suck on the sleeping boy's cock, sometime!

That idea thrilled her to the tips of her toes. She could just picture it! The boy would be drugged by a sleeping draught, so there would be no danger of having him wake up, and the two of them could fake turns sucking his prick. It would be a sort of contest, the winner being the one who managed to milk his hot thick load.

Then they could suck, each other off.

These thoughts got Julia so worked up that she slurped Mike's softened dick back into her mouth and sucked it up hard again. After a long, long time, she thrilled to another bubbling mouthful of his teenage jism.

She could hardly wait until Monday morning.

And Mike, when he awakened after a solid twelve hours of exhausted slumber, vaguely recalled having experienced two wet dreams.

It amazed him. He had never had a wet dream before, mainly because he kept his cock and balls drained with a steady masturbating effort so that there was no build-up of jism which might release itself in his sleep.

He felt proud.

It wasn't every boy who could jerk oft steadily for twenty-four hours and still have two wet dreams.

In the near future, Mike as going to have a whole lot of wet dreams. And he was going to feel very tired after breakfast, as well, about twice a week.

Mike never could figure it out.

She wanted to pick the boy up and bring him home for a fuck.

She hoped that she would be able to get him out of her system, to void herself of her lust for young boys by slaking that lust to excess.

She went out to the car.

She wanted Billy, and she wasn't ashamed of that. But she did feel a bit guilty about cuckolding Charles while he was at the office working so hard.

But Charles was not at the office.

He had stopped there, but only to pick up his spare camera, and then he had driven over to Lucy Lander's apartment. Lucy was a girl of twenty-two who desired to be a professional model but who was too lazy to make the effort. She vas the opposite of Charles, so that they got along famously together. Whereas Charles liked to fake lewd photographs, Lucy simply adored posing for them. It was the closest that she would ever come to modeling, and it was fun, too, for the girl was a bit of a narcissist who loved to see her charms captured on film.

She was pleased to see Charles standing, complete with camera, on her threshold.

Too lazy to work, Lucy was also too lazy to get dressed, and she habitually walked around the house naked. She was naked as she opened the door, not giving a damn who happened to be standing there.

"Why, Charles, you dear man... come in!"

In went Charles, he eyed the girl appreciatively.

She was tall and willowy, with corn silk hair, pert thrusting tits and an ass shaped like a valentine. Her cunt was big and juicy, as if it had been meant for a larger or wider-hipped girl. Larger than, life, it was a fine photographic subject.

"Going to take some pictures?"

"That's what I had in mind."

"Great... I got a brand new dildo."

"How very thoughtful of you," said Charles.

He had photographed Lucy while she fucked herself with plenty of elongated objects -- zucchini, bananas, sausages -- but he had never captured her on film while she employed a proper dildo.

"I haven't used it yet," she said. "I was saving it for when you came over. It's been used, because I bought it second-hand, but I'm not jealous."

She led him into the bedroom.

The dildo was in a handy position on the nightstand, and she held it up for Charles' approval. It was a huge rubber dick with a flaring head and veins seaming the shaft. At the hilt, it was fitted with a leather harness so that a girl could wear it if she happened to have need of a cock for any devious purposes. Charles approved of the device.

Lucy sat on the bed.

Charles prepared his camera.

He didn't take his clothing off. He never had with Lucy, for strange as it may seem, they didn't fuck. Charles was faithful to his wife and only wanted to take photos of other women. Lucy was fat too lazy to put out the energy that fucking required. She liked only to pose in languid positions and, afterwards, admire her form on film.

Lucy lubricated the rubber dick by pushing the knob into her mouth and salivating on it, then tonguing, up and down the stalk until the whole tool was glistening.

Charles took a picture of her with the fat dick in her face as she concentrated on sucking it. Then he took another thoughtful shot of her face as she ran her pink tongue up the thick shaft. It was a lot more stimulating than, say, a banana, he thought. The dildo was pretty realistic. Although it had been quite exciting, he recalled, when the girl had proceeded to eat the big salami with which she'd fucker her cunt to a froth.

Now she started screwing herself ow the pseudo-cock, beginning in the missionary position and push-pulling the rubber wad in and out of her gaping gash.

Charles took pictures.

After she'd fucked herself in that manner for a while, she put the cockhead back into her mouth, and Charles delighted in snapping a shot of the pretty girl's mouth as she sucked her own cuntjuice off the bulging knob.

Lucy had begun to get as hot as could be -- more from the knowledge that she was being watched, admired and photographed than from the actual physical stimulation of the dildo.

She got onto her hands and knees and straddled the dildo, her sweet ass weaving from side to side as she lashed her twat down on the upright fuck-tool.

Charles snapped and snapped. He changed film.

Lucy changed positions, plucking the dick from her snatch and putting it in again from the back, so that she was being fucked doggy fashion.

Charles had a booming hard-on. He opened his fly and took it out, but left it standing alone as he snapped a few more photos. Getting it up slowly, skinning the jism from his dick onto her hand. Then she brought her hand to her lips and began to gather up his jism with her tongue.

He snatched up the camera and took three photographs of the cum-drinking girl, bit she ruined one by wrinkling her nose. In fact, Lucy didn't like the taste of cum and had never in her life sucked a cock -- a great effort, that, and hardly worth the trouble of all that bobbing up and down -- but she would do anything as long as it was being stamped indelibly on film. After she had licked her fingers clean, she pushed them up her pussy and twisted them about until they were nice and creamy, then tongued her own cuntjuice up as Charles, sweating and panting, snapped picture after picture.

His cock was pounding again. He started stroking it once more, bat this time he retained the camera in his other hand and, seeing this, Lucy whimpered and knelt down in front of him. She didn't touch him, but she tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide and pushed her tongue out. Charles aimed his cockhead directly at her face.

His fist flew up and down. Her tongue folded out and lust twisted her pretty face into a mask of passion.

Charles' cockhead spurted.

A heavy glob of jism fell directly onto her tongue. She left her tongue out as he snapped the picture, then drew it into her mouth and, too indolent to spit or swallow, simply let the thick cum trickle down her throat.

Now that he had come twice, Charles no longer felt like taking pictures. That suited Lucy, who was anxious for him to leave now, so that she could look at all those glorious photos at her leisure.

They admired them together.

"God," she said, "I sure am beautiful!"

"Sexy, too."

"Oh my, yes! I'm so sexy, I glow in the dark."

"Well... I'd better be going," he said.

"You're gonna leave the pictures, huh?"

He nodded. He would have loved to take them home with him, but he feared that his wife might discover them. He always left the results of his camera work where it was produced. The act of taking such photos was enough in itself, and he knew he would be horny as a weasel for the next week or so.

But not as horny as he would have been if he had been able to photograph his beautiful wife.

As soon as Charles had departed, Lucy spread the pictures out across the bed and knelt there, gazing at them in absolute fascination and glowing pride. She didn't think that any woman in the world was as beautiful as she was. She thought that she could put Helen of Troy to shame.

It would sure be a lucky man that screwed her, she knew.

For Lucy was a virgin.

She had never yet met a man whom she considered good enough for her, and therefore, had never fucked a man. She had some vague idea that, sometime, she would meet a fellow who was six-foot-two, handsome as Robert Taylor and rich as a Greek shipping magnate, at which time she would condescend to spread her thighs and offer him the paradise of her pussy.

But she was in no hurry.

Now, as she gazed at the pictures, that virgin pussy began td simmer, then to smolder. She picked up the rubber dick and commenced to fuck herself slowly and steadily as she turned her eyes from photo to photo, drinking in her glorious image with self-adoration.

She bent down.

She began to lick the photographs, running her hot tongue over the glossy surface, wishing with all her heart and soul that she was nimble enough to bend over and suck her own cunt. No one else was good enough for her, but she was certainly good enough for herself, and it would have been just wonderful if she could have tongued her own pussy -- it would have been a love match wrought in heaven!

Especially if Charles had been there to photograph it, but now she was alone, and try as she might, she couldn't get her head between her legs nor her tongue up her gash. She had to settle for the rubber dick as she fucked herself to a frenzy and came so heavily that she smeared cuntjuice all over the photographs -- then licked it up from them.

She thought that if she weren't so damned lazy, she might take yoga lessons.

CHAPTER NINE

Billy Wilson had been having cock trouble all morning. He certainly was in no mood to shine shoes with, his prick rampaging about in his ragged trousers. He would have taken a day off from his shoe shining, except that the corner of Green and Broad was the only place that Marlene knew to look for him and he was going to spend the day there anyhow, hoping that she might show up. And since he was there, he figured he might as well shine up some shoes. He could always use the money. Besides, it kept him busy, helped time to pass, and it gave him an excuse for hanging around there so that the police on the slum harassment squad would not arrest him for loitering or force him to move along.

But shining shoes was not easy with a hard-on, he had discovered. His hard prick confounded him. It stuck up obstinately, hardened to all influences save desire. Billy knew that a quick pull or two would release some of the pressure, but he was reluctant to do that, because if Marlene did show up, he wanted to have a nice load of jism for her. So he stuck it out. He had to turn his head and shoulders from one side to the other in order to shine a shoe, working around his hard-on, as it were, as if he were a prisoner handcuffed around a telephone pole. At one point, his dick escaped. The knob sought out one of the tears in his ragged pants and slipped right out, just as he was preparing to pop the rag across a gleaming toecap. Billy realized that his dick had come out but he had already started the wrist snapping motion and ft was too late to stop. He popped the rag across shoe and knob at the same time, back and forth, and his knob was glowing with every bit as high a polish as the toe of the shoe by the time that he got through, the purple shell glossed, by seminal polish. Luckily, the customer was reading a newspaper and took no notice. That was good, Billy reckoned. Customers hated to have bootblacks come on their shoes.

Aw, she ain't gonna come he told himself. There ain't no sense in getting my hopes up -- I'll only be disappointed. She told me she never did anything like that before, and I guess maybe that was true, so it was probably just a thing she wanted to try. Now that she had done it, she wouldn't want to do it again.

But despite his restraining thoughts, his hopes stood right up there, as vibrant and shining as his prick.

Suddenly his heart missed a beat.

A Cadillac cruised slowly down Broad Street and drew over to the curb. Billy held his breath as he watched it come and then his heart made up for that missing beat by starting a series of quick fire thumps.

Marlene smiled from the car.

Billy gathered up his kit and carried it over to the car. She opened the door and he got in.

"Gee," he said.

"Did you expect me to come?"

"No. I hoped you would, though."

She put the car in gear.

"We going back under the elevated highway?" he asked. That grim and desolate area had taken on a romantic aspect in his memory, a gossamer glory, like the vaguely remembered setting of a wet dream.

"Not today, Billy. I'm going to take you home... to take you to my bed."

She drove off. The Cadillac ran soft and smooth and silent; Billy rattled and panted and squirmed.

From the grimy window of the Regency, Clyde Wilson saw the car pull up and his heart reacted the same way that Billy's had, faltering and then doing double-time. He had borrowed a car, although he'd been unable to borrow a camera, and he was parked in the alley beside the bar, conveniently at hand for the pursuit. Clyde gulped down his beer and dashed out to the old Pontiac. He pulled out and followed the Cadillac down Broad Street, keeping a couple cars behind but making damn sure that he kept the other car in sight.

This was the opportunity of a lifetime for Clyde, and he was determined. His face was set and hard as dreams of blackmail money danced through his mind. His pecker was just as hard with the hope of some blackmail pussy.

Marlene drove into the garage so that none of the neighbors would see the boy she had brought home. This was partly due to discretion and partly because she had an idea that her lusty friend, Julia, if she saw the lad, might take it into her head to come over and borrow a cup of sugar in hopes of getting some of that lovely young cock. But Marlene had no intention of sharing Billy. She wanted every inch and every stroke and every last drop of cum with which he was filled.

She led Billy down the walkway into the house.

He looked around from the doorway as if he had passed through the pearly gates.

Billy had never been in such a fine house.

Marlene took him by the hand and led him through the kitchen and up to the bedroom. His breath was rattling in his throat and there was a dull roar in his ears. He gaped at the big soft bed. How was he ever going to go back to a tarpaper tenement roof, after this luxury?

Marlene was smiling at him and he smiled back -- with effort, for his jaws were tight and his throat was tense. He was as nervous as he was horny.

"Come here, darling," she said.

She was beside the bed. Billy walked over, almost staggering with the intensity of his lust.

"Shall I undress you, Billy?"

She sat on the edge of the bed, and her hands began to move deftly over his ragged clothing. Her touch, cool and light, seemed to burn into his flesh like dry ice. Her fingers traced a pattern on his smooth skin, across his slender belly, up his lean thighs, as if they were engraving a design into his body, tattooing him with desire.

Then she touched his cock.

She drew it out and held it in her hand, gazing adoringly at it, not moving but simply holding it as if judging the weight in her hand and admiring the dimensions and the configuration of the blazing rod.

Billy's cockhead began to smoke.

Clyde was smoking.

He had turned into the street just in time to see the rear of the Cadillac vanish into the garage. He drew up to the curb and turned off the ignition. He knew that he had to be patient. He wanted to rush right in, but it would be no good to arrive before they had started. He had to catch them in the act. It would have been better if he'd had a camera, but he was pretty sure that he could extort money and pussy from the woman even without evidence on film. She wouldn't be able to take a chance -- if the threatened to expose her to her husband, she would simply have to give him what he wanted.

He smoked a cigarette with short impatient drags, his hand going up and down with the smoke, and tried to figure how long he ought to wait.

But Marlene hadn't waited at all.

Billy was naked and Marlene was kissing the head of his throbbing dick with soft fluttering movements of her lips, not taking it into her mouth or even tonguing, but simply kissing the tip of that wonderful wand that was going to work such magic on her pussy.

She dipped down and kissed his balls, worshipping those sacs that held his cum potion.

Then she stood up, motioned Billy to the bed and, as he stared at her, undressed slowly, dropping her hot pants and removing her blouse and letting the eager boy admire her supple body as it came into view.

Naked, she posed before him, cupping her thrusting tits and sliding a hand across her belly. She dipped her fingers into her seething cunt and rubbed her stiff nipples.

Billy stared in dumb wonder at the glory of her body.

She lay down beside him, and they kissed. Billy was afraid to touch her, or to initiate anything. He was overwhelmed by the whole situation -- far more than he had been in the car, parked in the slums, for this luxurious bedroom was, to Billy, a totally alien world. He might have been on Mars or Neptune, so vastly different was the setting from anything he'd ever known before.

Marlene realized that the boy was waiting for her to direct him. She thought it was sweet.

She took his hands and drew them to her tits.

Billy kneaded and stroked and pulled at her taut nipples. They were belly to belly and thigh to thigh, and his cock was hammering against her belly like a mallet.

She drew one of his hands down and pressed it to her cunt. Billy gasped and began to fondle that smoldering pussy, dragging his hand along the slot and then pushing his fingers up the juicy hole. She moved her belly up and down against his pecker.

Marlene needed very little foreplay at the moment, and it was obvious that Billy needed none at all. She rolled over onto her back, raised her knees and parted her thighs. She arched her back, thrusting her crotch up.

Billy stared at her, waiting for instructions or permission, afraid to do anything on his own.

"Why don't you fuck me now, Billy?" she said.

He rolled over and mounted her.

"Fuck me fast and hard," she whispered. "Later we can fuck slow and easy."

The boy was in position. His cock needed no guidance. The bloated head had nestled into her creamy slot like the needle of a carnal compass drawn by sexual magnetism.

He braced his knees on the bed, tensed his taut ass, paused for a moment while the glorious, expectation swirled madly through his mind -- and then slammed his cock home.

Marlene gasped as the boy's big dick plowed in to the hilt, stuffing her cunt chock-a-block full of hot hard meat. Her cunt muscles ripped and pulled on his shaft and closed like a hand around his swollen peckerhead.

She began to move first. Her belly undulated and her haunches began to piston. She lifted her ass up from the bed so that her belly was sliding against his and their pubic hair tangled together. Her thighs were hooked over his hips, her loins cupped.

Billy began to fuck her frantically.

His cock, hard all day, seemed to be numb for a moment, now that it was buried up a hot cunthole. Then it began to throb and thunder and swell up like a balloon, filling her to the brim. Her cunt pressed around him, delineating the contours of his pecker so that they slid together with slippery friction through every precious inch. He was banging in hard, his balls slamming against her upthrust ass and his belly slapping hers as he drove his prick in all the way.

Marlene met him with equal intensity, pushing her crotch at him as he thrust in, then corkscrewing her hips as he drew back, fucking with steady urgency. Her hands moved over his smooth hairless body, stroking his chest, his belly, his hips. She lifted her face for a kiss, then threw her head back, her head tossing from side to side, lust masking her countenance. Her eyes narrowed; her lips parted; her tongue flashed across her lower lip.

She was ready to come.

The psychological thrill of having a teenage cock plunging into her womb inspired the lust crazed woman even more than the physical sensation. She wanted him to come in her cunt, to shoot that heavy load into her loins as he had, the day before, into her eager mouth. Her pussy seemed like a desert, parched and desperate for the irrigating jism.

"Come, Billy," she panted. "Come for me... come in me... fill my pussy with that thick cream!"

Her caressing hand moved down and cupped his balls, squeezing gently. Her thighs tightened as he drove in, relaxed as he pulled out, thighs clamping like velvet brackets around his surging hips and pounding ass.

Billy wailed and plunged, and his balls exploded. The thick cum poured up his stalk and burst into her cunt in a flood of lava. He was fucking her frantically, desperately, the thrill too great to be contained and spreading throughout his being as he poured load after load of boiling jism into her melting pussy.

Cuntjuice flooded from her, soaking his balls, and his cum filled her and overflowed in creamy rivers that ran down her crotch and the crack of her driving ass.

He was coming with such force that his pelvis jolted back on the recoil and she was shuddering under the liquid blows of his lashing eruptions.

He came for a long time, spurt after spurt of juice blasting out at first, and then, trickling out in milder spasms as he emptied his cock and balls to the very dregs.

At long last, he stilled.

Still coupled, they gazed at each other. His cock, despite his massive unloading, remained hard as iron and inflated so that it stuffed her creamy cunt to the brim.

Marlene smiled happily.

Time had no meaning. It might have been seconds or minutes that they were frozen in that linked position, awed by the extent of their simultaneous orgasms.

Then Billy began to fuck her again.

CHAPTER TEN

Clyde had waited long enough.

He lumbered up the sidewalk, trying to look nonchalant, a big brawny man totally out of place in that suburban neighborhood -- a heavy hairy man, the absolute antithesis of the smooth-skinned young boys for whom Marlene creamed. But Clyde didn't have to appeal to her. Clyde had the leverage of blackmail.

He passed through the garage, down the walkway and into the kitchen. He paused by the door, and even from there he could hear Marlene whimpering and Billy panting and the bed rocking rhythmically to their horizontal gavotte. His eyes gleamed in anticipation. His face was bestial with lust.

He followed those sounds of lust to the bedroom.

Gazing in from the doorway, Clyde grinned fiendishly as he saw the shoeshine boy humping away between Marlene's widespread thighs, into her cum-drenched pussyhole.

He thought it was only fair to let the boy get his rocks off before he burst in upon them -- for in his limited way, Clyde was a fair-minded fellow.

Why, that little lad can really pop the old rag, he thought. I guess maybe he's really my kid, after all!

Then he saw the camera where Charles had left it, forgotten, on the dresser.

It was too good a chance to pass up. Clyde tiptoed into the room. Marlene's vision was blocked by Billy's heaving torso. Billy was turned away from the door. Neither of them noticed the man sneaking in. He picked up the camera and found that it was all set to go. Fate was truly being kind to him. He got the camera up and waited. Billy was fucking faster and starting to whine.

Billy shot up her cunt.

Marlene came with him again. The camera went off, bulb flashing brilliantly, but both Billy and Marlene, as they came, had flashing skyrockets exploding in their minds and seething infernos in their bellies and the flash of the bulb did not register against the flaring background of their combined passion.

The Polaroid film slid out.

Clyde snatched it out of the camera and, not waiting for it to develop, tossed it onto the dresser. He put the camera down beside it. There would be time enough later to use that incriminating picture to blackmail her for money.

At the moment, Clyde was more interested in getting some of that sweet pussy.

He walked up to the bed.

"Aha!" he said.

Billy blanched and Marlene looked stunned.

"Who in hell are you?" she asked.

"Aw, jeez... that's my father," Billy said. Then, because he was furious that the man had interrupted them, he looked sullen and added, "Maybe he's my father."

Marlene breathed a sigh of relief. For a horrible moment she had suspected that it might be a private detective hired by her husband.

She said, "What do you want?"

"Cunt," he said.

"Not my cunt, you horrid hairy adult!"

"Head, too. I know you sucked the boy off and I saw you fucking him and if you don't put out for me, I'm gonna tell your husband about it."

"Oh, Christ," Marlene said. "You disgusting swine."

Billy looked like he might take a swing at Clyde.

But Clyde held all the cards. He shrugged his massive shoulders, smirking.

"What's it gonna be, lady?"

Marlene considered the situation.

She certainly did not want to fuck this brawny brute. He was exactly the opposite of what she liked, but she didn't see that she had much choice. She couldn't take a chance that he might actually tell Charles about her sins. And after all, it was no big thing. She was no virgin, ho innocent girl about to be raped or depraved. It could have been worse, too. Marlene was a logical clear-thinking woman and she figured she would rather be blackmailed for pussy -- which was free -- than to have him demand money.

She said, "I'll probably vomit... but I guess I have to let that pig have me, Billy."

"Aw, jeez," the boy said.

Clyde beamed.

"Can I fuck Billy again afterwards?" she asked.

Clyde, a generous fellow, said, "Yeah, sure." He was thinking he might take some more pictures.

"Well, let's get it over with," said Marlene. Billy pulled his cock out of her cunt and got off the bed, looking most distraught. But the horny youth brightened. He had no claims on her, after all, her being a married woman and all. And it might be sort of exciting to watch her fuck his father -- maybe his father -- as long as he knew that he was going to get to fuck her again afterwards.

He hunkered down to watch.

Clyde tore his clothing off. Marlene grimaced with distaste when she saw his big hairy chest and bulging belly, so vastly different from Billy's smooth slim torso.

But when she saw his cock, her eyes gleamed.

His prick was bigger than Billy's, a robust pecker with a swollen knob, hard as a crowbar and pulsating with vitality. Marlene thought that maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all. She thought about it, in fact, exactly the same way that Billy was thinking about it. It might be exciting to fuck the father while the son watched, as long as she could have some more of Billy's sweet young pecker afterwards.

She actually managed to smile at Clyde.

"Don't worry, Billy," she said. "I don't really mind."

That thrilled Clyde, pride and prick. He knelt on the bed and twisted his big fist in her golden hair.

"Suck it," he rasped.

His coarseness didn't trouble Marlene, who was inordinately fond of sucking dick anyhow. When he pulled her head to his cock she went down willing enough. Her lips pursed at the tip, then slowly parted as she took the swollen knob into her mouth. She sucked. Her cheeks drew in concave indentations around the meaty mouthful.

She was happy to discover that despite his unkempt appearance, his pecker was delicious. Clyde had washed carefully that morning, in anticipation of stuffing her face full. He was thoughtful that way -- not a bad fellow at all.

Marlene began to suck with a steady rhythm, her head going up and down on his fat prick. She figured that he wanted to come in her mouth, and never minding a nice drink of cum, she worked toward that creamy goal.

Her fist folded around the shaft of his cock and she began to stroke it through a few inches at the bottom, her lips coming down to meet her rising hand.

Clyde's big dick ballooned in her mouth, the knob expanding so much that it pressed into both cheeks at once. She felt like a squirrel with a pouch full of nuts.

But then he plucked his cock out of her face. As much as he enjoyed a blow-job, Clyde was eager to fuck her juicy cunt.

He moved down, wrapping his fist around his prick and aiming the head at her snatch. Marlene arched, tilting her cunt up to meet his thrust.

He ran the whole fat length up her on the first stroke.

"Ummmm... nice," she said, despite herself.

Clyde began to shovel his cock to her like a fireman stroking a boiler.

Billy was watching in fascination. Although he'd come in her cunt twice already, his youthful potency was undiminished, and now it was inspired by the sight of their vigorous fucking.

Marlene turned her head, smiling at Billy, wanting to let him know that she was all right.

But when she saw his booming hard-on, her smile faded into a gaze of longing.

"Couldn't Billy put it in my mouth while you fuck me?" she asked the brawny rider on her loins.

"Yeah!" he said with enthusiasm. He had no objections whatsoever to a double linkup -- on the contrary, he figured it would be plenty thrilling to watch her sucking on a kid's dick while he fucked her cunt.

Billy needed no coning.

He sprang onto the bed, kneeling beside Marlene's head. She turned her face to him. He pushed his cock toward her. Her tongue flicked out, forming a pink path, and his swollen cockhead settled onto that path and slid right into her mouth. She began to suck hungrily.

Her cunt was slurping on Clyde's huge prick and her mouth gurgled joyfully on Billy's delicious cock.

Who would ever have thought that it could be so much fun to get blackmailed?

Clyde was snorting ferociously now and his cock was hammering wildly up her twat. He stared down, watching her lips pull up and down on Billy's prick, and the sight was every bit as thrilling as the feel of her wet cunt on his dick.

He howled and blew his load into her pussy, a heavy dose of jism that hosed her in a steady stream, every drop coming out in one long rope of coiled cum.

Feeling her cunt fill up with jism, Marlene whimpered happily and sucked so hard that she fairly pulled the spunk out of Billy's bloated balls. A moment after her cunt was stuffed, her mouth was filled with an equal load of cream.

Clyde pulled his pecker out of her cunt and Billy drew his from her creamy lips. Billy's cock was still big and hard, but Clyde's had started to diminish.

Clyde flopped down beside her on his back, panting heavily. His pecker seemed unable to make up its mind whether to shrink or get hard again. The stalk was swaying like a tree in a hurricane, and the big knob bobbed around over his loins.

Marlene had not come that time.

And she wanted to.

She rolled over and came up onto her knees, her taut ass rising to be the highest point of her body. She looked back over her shoulder at Billy.

"Fuck me doggy style now," she urged.

Billy gulped and his dick flared. He knelt behind her and slid his prick up her cunt to the hilt, his lean belly pressing against her mobile ass. He began to fuck her pussy with long, rippling, underslung thrusts.

Marlene's ass jolted on his cock, the smooth cheeks going up and down as his strokes raised her pelvis. In that position, her head was being forced down onto Clyde's belly, above which his cock swayed back and forth.

It was too good to pass up.

Marlene slurped Clyde's pecker into her mouth and commenced to suck on it merrily. His cock lost all ambivalence the instant it was sheathed in wet cheeks ad collared by greedy lips. It snapped back to a smoking erection.

Marlene's head went up and down on the rampant prick and her ass went up and down on Billy's dong. She was balanced between the two jolting rods. Full of dick at both ends, her mouth was watering and her pussy creaming.

"Unghhh!" she gasped as she took Clyde's massive pecker head right down her gullet. Then, "Ummmmm," as she drew her taut lips back up the succulent stalk and sucked greedily on the head before going back down again.

She rocked back and forth on this teeter-totter of lust, oblivious to all but her seething passion.

And especially oblivious to the fact that her husband was standing in the doorway with his mouth gaping open.

Charles had come home and, like Clyde before him, had heard the sounds of lust from the doorway -- even more pronounced, in fact, since there were now three fuckers panting away and two cocks charging.

Charles, who had never been the slightest bit suspicious of Marlene's fidelity, grinned excitedly.

Why, she must be masturbating, he thought. Or maybe she's taking a nap and haying another wet dream.

It that were the case, he wanted to capture her slumbering ecstasy an film, and with that in mind, he tiptoed as quietly as he could up to the bedroom.

When he first looked in, so tangled were the fuckers that it took Charles a moment before it registered -- before he realized that his wife was getting doggy fucked by a teenager while she sucked on a brawny man's cock.

When realization struck him, he was furious.

Marlene was cuckolding him before and after.

His eyes rolled and he gnashed his teeth in outrage. And then his eyes fixed upon the Polaroid shot on the dresser. He snatched it up and stared at it.

It was in focus, and it was obvious. The boy was fucking his wife and, from the way the cream was pouring out of her hairy hole, it appeared that the youth had just shot his wad.

For a moment, Charles' face was expressionless. And then he grinned!

She had guessed! His wonderful wife had known all along about his pet desires! What other explanation could there be? She knew that he wanted to take pictures of her fucking and sucking with other men, but being a proper wife and chaste, she had been too embarrassed to bring the subject up. Instead, she had set the situation up, knowing he would come home in time to take part! Charles was filled with love -- and respect -- for Marlene, who had gone to so much trouble to satisfy his cravings.

As he stared, Billy poured his jism into her cunt and Clyde filled her mouth with hot cum. Jism ran down from her chin and flooded from her pussy.

Charles took a photograph.

Then he advanced to the bed, whipping his rock-hard dick out en route.

"Darling!" he cried.

"Oh my God! My husband!" Marlene wailed.

But even as she wailed, she realized that it was not anger that flushed his face. It was love.

Billy and Clyde, distraught at being caught in the act, both rolled off the bed on opposite sides. They snatched up their clothing.

But Charles said, "Don't leave yet, boys. Wait until I get my rocks off and then we'll take some pictures."

And without further ado, he mounted Marlene and slammed his throbbing pecker up her cunt and began to fuck away with wild abandon.

THE END

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