Another suck wife



In many cases today's marriage is seen as a business and/or social arrangement between consenting adults rather than a continuing expression of love.

The results are obvious: casual, promiscuous infidelity; a lack of concern for the partner and the children; the breakdown of the nuclear family; and the use of others for thrill-seeking-and often deviant-purposes as an end in itself instead of as a means of showing devotion and affection. Too often a loving veneer masks a core of, at best, unconcern; at worst, depravity.

ANOTHER SUCK WIFE is the story of one middle-aged wife, outwardly normal, who discovers an eagerness to satisfy her lustful cravings in the arms of other men. A shocking story, true, but also a mirror of our times.



CHAPTER ONE

Kitty finally adjusted to her evenings at home with Harold, to retiring precisely at ten, accepting his immediate fuck-thrust without foreplay, handing him the Kleenex box, then hearing the regular breathing of his deep sleep.

It hadn't been like that in the early days of their marriage when he needed her, needed her desperately, and when he wanted her, really wanted her. He had crawled to her then, licking from her toes up, begging entrance to the delights of her pussy.

Kitty kept telling herself she was better off than most. Harold rarely drank too much, chased women or mistreated her. He was cold, but solid: successful, a good provider of clothes, a car of her own, and a home with a pool.

She couldn't stop her restless nights, or the sexual fantasies that crept through her mind the instant she was alone in their sprawling, silent house. But she could keep them to herself.

When strong lust plagued her, made her restless, filled her with the feeling of missing something in life, something basic and important, she ignored it and rearranged the furniture, or went shopping.

Then James came on the scene.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, James came to mow the grass, water and trim the, shrubs.

James never looked at her, which confused Kitty. She was used to having men look at her. When she had been a waitress, they looked at the full swell of her tits as if they wanted to order them instead of the luncheon special.

When she had been a cocktail waitress, they looked at the swell of tit-flesh that threatened to spill out of her scanty uniform. They had looked at the cheeks of her ass and her bare thighs as she walked away to get their drinks. She was used to men looking at her.

She loved it. It was as if their devouring eyes were warm, eager hands exploring her body, creating excitement, desire everywhere they touched.

James never looked at her. When his eyes touched her, which was rare, she had the feeling he was looking through her. His apparent disinterest puzzled her at first, then filled her with a sense of exasperation.

He aroused the longings within that she had learned to ignore, aroused fantasies. The mere sight of his bronzed shoulders, glistening in the hot desert sun, made her wet between the legs.

Even tough it was July and the temperature often went above a hundred, she made a point of going outside for something every time James was working in the lawn. She retrieved glasses left around the pool, wiped down the tile walls of the outside shower.

She lingered outside, her eyes darting to wherever James was working, shirtless, his bronzed skin glistening in the sun, his dark hair bunched over the sweat-band he wore around his forehead. She hoped to catch him looking at her, as other men looked at her, devouring her.

He never did. He was always bent over a lawn tool of some kind, his broad muscular back toward her.

Once, when James was edging the grass near the patio around the swimming pool, she came out in a swimming suit that consisted solely of strings with three small patches. She walked slowly to the diving board and made a graceful swan dive. James didn't even notice.

Feeling frustrated, rejected by a mere lawn man, she retreated into her house. The man was unreal!

"Do we really need him?" she asked Harold one morning, interrupting his concentration on the morning paper.

"What did you say, dear?"

"That gardener! He's costing us an arm and a leg!"

"Let me worry about the bills, dear. You know how hard it is to find a good gardener."

Kitty decided to never go outside again and suffer the humiliation of his disinterest, but she didn't stop looking outside. Every Tuesday and Thursday after Harold left, she ran from room to room, looking out windows until she found where James was working. As she watched him work, her restlessness grew.

It was more than just his muscular build and his handsome, sweat-covered face that attracted her. It was a certain animalistic confidence that made her feel he knew she was watching, and was amused by her interest.

He knew all right, she decided, her humiliation increasing with the knowledge.

And it was all so damned silly! She was a grown woman, edging toward thirty-five, not a teenaged rock fan with a crush on the face and body printed on a poster.

I must get control of this, she decided. I must not let it bug me so much.

The way to do it, she decided, was to face the man, talk to him eyes to eye. Once she got to know him, to see him as a man like all other men, the familiarity would breed contempt. The wild fantasies, the deep hungers would disappear.

She made a pitcher of lemonade, filled a tall glass with ice and marched into the back yard.

"Here," she said, handing him the gins and pouring it full. "This should help fight off the heat."

He looked into her eyes, or rather through her eyes, as if seeing something even Kitty didn't know was there. His face was deeply tanned, dripping with perspiration. His dark eyes gleamed.

"Thank you," he said, emptying the glass with one long drink, then returning it with his eyes still boring into her.

"More?"

"No thank you," he replied, returning to his work.

Kitty returned to her house, more agitated than ever.

Damn him! she thought. Who in the hell does he think he is?

But she wouldn't give up, not yet. At noon, when he normally left for the day, she went out again.

"Wouldn't you like a cool shower before you leave?" she said, expecting the offer to lead to a conversation, a chance to get to know him, to see his weaknesses.

He looked at her as if reading her mind, causing her to blush.

"Good idea," he relied. "Thanks."

He was suddenly standing nude before her, his sweat-stained pants and shirt on the ground at his feet. "Can you throw these in your washer for me?"

Kitty was speechless for a moment, her eyes fixed on the long cock that dangled between his legs. "All right!"

"I'll need a towel, if you have one handy."

She didn't want to look shocked. And why in the hell should she? Sooner or later all of their parties ended up with everybody swimming nude.

Still, her entire body was shaking when she went inside to start the washing machine and get his towel.

When she returned, holding the towel in front of her, he turned off the shower.

"You do it," he said.

It was more of an order than a request.

"That is, if you don't mind," he added, smiling politely.

He knew, Goddamn it! He knew she wanted to touch his beautiful body, to feel the texture of his flesh, to run her fingers over his thighs, his flat stomach. He knew and be was making fun of her. That bastard!

But her sense of embarrassment, her deep humiliation, didn't stop her. Nothing could have stopped her. She began rubbing the soft towel down his muscular chest as she would wipe down the shower wall.

"My feet," he said, his eyes never leaving her. Kitty dropped to her knees without realizing it, bending down like a scrub woman, dabbing at droplets of water on his toes, his ankles, the calves of his well-formed legs. She dried his skin as gently as she would the skin of a baby, then touched him with her fingers, thrilling to the velvet-like smoothness.

She couldn't believe she was doing this. She had caressed the flesh of men before, many men, many times, but always to please them, to con them, to win their approval fin a month's rent on an apartment, a second-hand car, a trip to Hawaii. She had never done it for her own pleasure, not like the pleasure she was feeling now.

She dried his thighs, then touched him again as if starved for the feel of him.

He held his cock so it pointed at her, soft and still moist from the shower. She looked up into his eyes, then thought of Harold, of her marriage that she had to preserve at all costs, of her future.

"No!" she said, almost in a frantic scream.

He grasped a handful of her blonde hair with a broad, powerful hand. "It's what you want. Why pretend?"

He guided her head down between his legs. His cock-shaft went into her mouth like a streak of lightning. She closed her eyes and sucked like a newborn puppy on a mother's tit, feeling his massive cock grow in her mouth, caressing his balls gently, fondly.

She loved it! The realization shocked her. Sucking cocks was a way to please a man, to pay for the gifts he bestowed, for the attention he lavished. Even sucking Harold's cock had been a mission of duty more than an experience of pleasure.

Yet she loved this gardener's cock. She loved the feel of it in her mouth, the smoothness of the hard cock-flesh, the taste of his cock. She loved it!

She sucked hungrily.

Suddenly she pulled back. "No! No!"

She felt the painful jerk of her hair, pulling her head back. Her mouth opened with pain. Then she felt the round hard bulb of his prick touch her lips, and once again she sucked, and she kept sucking. The more his prick grew, the more it throbbed, the harder she sucked. The more she loved it!

Her hands reached around him, squeezing the cheeks of his soft ass, pulling him toward her, filling her mouth with the smooth hard cock-flesh that began to pulsate against her tongue, the inside of her cheeks. Her mouth devoured his prick eagerly, passionately. Her thoughts shot to the moon and tack.

"No!" She cried. "Please..."

Her jerked her head back again, squirting a stream of warm sticky milk-like jism into her face, her eyes, down her nose. She opened her mouth, eager for the taste of it.

Holding the base of his cock with his thumb and forefinger, James snapped his heavy prick across her face, much like a teacher slapping the hand of a misbehaving child with the flat side of a ruler. He slapped her again. And then again.

The soft cock-flesh hit with a thud. The pain was exquisite.

"Get my clothes!" he ordered, and stepped back under the shower.

She took one last look at his bronzed body, standing motionless under the fine spray, his back to her, the tip of his soft prick visible between his legs. She felt an urge to reach between his thighs and squeeze his cock gently, one last time.

"Go!" he snapped, turning off the water and reaching for the towel.

Kitty instinctively raced inside the house, retrieved his clothes from the dryer and returned. As he dressed, she felt a sense of panic.

"You're not leaving!" she said.

"I always leave at this time."

"But..."

He looked into her pleading eyes, a slight smile crawling across his wide, thin lips.

"You have my address," he said -- and left.

It was mid-afternoon before Kitty stopped walking in circles throughout the empty house, unable to keep still because of the heat in her pussy.

It was mid-afternoon, after she had brushed her teeth, washed her hair, and taken a scalding shower, that she began to think straight, to realize what had happened to her, to measure the danger, the senseless danger, she had subjected herself to.

What a fool she'd been! What a stupid, childish fool! If Harold had come home unexpectedly. If one of the neighbors had dropped by for coffee. If she could have lost everything! Everything she had always dreamed of having. Never again, she decided firmly. Never, never, never again!

Harold came home later than usual, exhausted. She mixed him a tall gin and tonic as he undressed for a dip before dinner. Kitty rarely joined him for his before-dinner swims. She didn't like to get her hair wet. This time she did, diving in nude, edging close to him as he paused at the deep end before pushing for a series of laps.

As her tit rubbed against his forearm, he looked at her with a frown.

"Now look at your hair!" he snapped, then pushed off and began swimming laps.

Precisely at ten he went to bed. Kitty joined him completely nude. Her fingers touched the inside of his thigh gently, hesitantly.

"I've had a busy day, Kitty," be mumbled, turning his back to her and falling asleep immediately.

"Pack my bag," he ordered as soon as she got up the next morning. "I'll be in 'Frisco until Saturday night."

She felt both relief and fear over his leaving. She needed some time alone, time to sleep late, then to watch some soaps and stay up for a late movie, time to get her head straight, firmly straight.

So finally had everything she had always wanted -- plus a sense of security she once feared she would never have. She had worked for it, worked hard. And she was going to keep it!

Nothing was going to take it away from her! Nothing! Absolutely nothing!

At ten o'clock she drank a glass of white wine to help her sleep. It didn't. Neither did a double gin and tonic. At eleven she stopped fighting it and drove to a run-down neighborhood across town, where house numbers were either missing or too faded to read in the dark.

She looked until she found James' pick-up truck in a carport.

He lived in a small, unpainted, two-bedroom house, sitting in a row of small unpainted houses, all deteriorating at about the same speed. But it wasn't the shabbiness Kitty noticed, or the smallness.

It was the smell. The instant James opened his front door, the smell engulfed her. It was the smell of yesterday's garbage, sweaty clothes, a pile of greasy dishes in the kitchen sink. She almost vomited.

He was in his shorts, barefoot, unshaven, hair tousled. He didn't invite her in. He merely stepped back and allowed her to enter, then closed the door behind her and clicked off the blaring television set, making no effort to scrape away the litter of discarded clothes and newspapers that cluttered the cramped living room.

There was one short easy chair in front of the TV. In it were the work clothes he had worn all day.

"Aren't you going to offer me a chair?" she asked.

"I've only got one, mine."

"Harold's in San Francisco," she said, feeling obligated to say something by way of an explanation.

He was looking through her again, his dark eyes gleaming with a superior smile. She wondered what he saw, what he was thinking. She wondered why she had come.

"Beer?" he finally offered. "No thank you."

He led the way into a small bedroom, as if talking big her on a tour of his house. The sheets were gray and tangled. The odor of locker-room sweat was overpowering. He clicked off the light.

Kitty stood frozen as he quickly unbuttoned her blouse, removed it, then unsnapped her bra.

"You don't waste time," she said. His powerful hands squeezed her tits painfully. "Oh!" she squealed.

He squeezed again, more painfully.

"Please, James!"

"It's what you came for, isn't it?"

Was it? She felt confused, uncertain of what she wanted, fascinated by his confidence, as if he knew, as if he knew her better than she knew herself.

He pushed her backwards onto the bed, then peeled down her shorts and panties. Suddenly he was sitting on her, his limp prick resting in the valley between her tits.

"You're... you're hurting me!" she said, hardly able to breathe.

A laugh came from deep in his throat. His eyes gleamed in the darkness.

He lifted her legs onto his shoulders as he would two small sticks, then buried his head in the moist patch of cunt-hair. His hands grabbed both tits, his fingers pinching her nipples.

"Oh!" she screamed again, feeling her pussy get moist as his warm tongue darted inside her, feeling pleasure like she had never felt before, pleasure mixed with the sharp pain from his grip on her nipples.

Her legs went around his neck, pulling his face into her. She squealed, then muffled her sounds by putting her fist in her mouth, biting hard on her own knuckles.

"Nobody will bear you," he said, grabbing the cheeks of her ass with powerful hands and squeezing them red.

"Eat it!" she suddenly screamed, her words coming as a surprise to her. "Eat my hot pussy!"

His tongue darted faster, deeper. His teeth locked onto soft, wet flesh, causing a loud scream of pain. His long tongue slid deep into her cunt-tunnel, touching places that had never been touched, in a way she had never before experienced.

"Oh my God!" she screamed, her teeth clenched. "I love it, James! My God how I love it!"

Her first orgasm, the first real orgasm she had experienced in a long time, came suddenly, unexpectedly, and lasted for a sweet eternity. Her breath caught in her throat. When she finally gasped for air, the odor that saturated the room was no longer there. The foul, nauseating stench had become the sweet smell of sensuous pleasure.

She came again, with such force she thought she might faint. She loved the smell of him now. She wanted to smell his arm pits, his asshole.

"Now it's your turn," he said, picking her up and literally dropping her on the hard floor beside the bed. He pulled her face between his legs. "I like a fast tongue!"

She licked his growing cock-shaft, his sweaty balls, the crack under his balls. She felt her mouth moisten as saliva dripped down his ball-sac, then she head a wild sucking sound, the obscene sound of animals devouring their kill, lapping at fresh meat with a hunger that was insatiable.

At first she couldn't believe she was making such sounds, or that she was listening to them with the fascination of one hypnotized by the smell, the feel, the sound of animal passion. She couldn't believe she was on her bare knees on a hard floor, dripping her saliva over cock-flesh that smelled of grit and sweat, yet tasting it with erotic pleasure.

She couldn't believe the pain in her knees, the sudden jerking of her hair, the kneading of her shoulders and nipples by strong, cruel fingers was sending streaks of pleasure through her body that made this horrible moment one of exquisite desire.

She couldn't believe how much she loved the hot come that gushed into her hungry mouth.

"Swallow it!" he commanded.

She instinctively, happily, crazily obeyed, then fell in a heap on the floor, her hand caressing his soft cock, the salt-like drops of come drooling from one corner of her mouth.

James went to the kitchen for a beer, took a long swallow, then poured in a double shot of whiskey.

"Here," he said, grabbing a handful of hair and jerking her head up, tilting the can to her lips. She swallowed greedily.

James clicked on the overhead light and plopped on the bed with his boilermaker, looking down at her curled body remaining motionless, totally comfortable, on the hard floor.

"Had enough?" he growled.

Kitty's eyes remained closed. A faint smile parted her full lips. "There isn't enough."

He gave her another swig of the boilermaker, the high-powered liquid joined the white come that dripped from her chin, onto her tits.

"There's more," he said, finishing the beer with one long pull.

He scooped her off the floor and headed for the one easy chair in the living room.

"I thought nobody sat in that chair but you," she said.

"You aren't sitting in it," he said, draping her body over the soft back of the chair, the cheeks of her ass pointing toward the ceiling, her face buried in the smelly work clothes in the seat.

He stood behind the chair, rubbing his cock against her asshole.

"No, James! No!" she protested.

He stuck his finger in first. She felt like he was ripping her apart.

"Oh!" she cried.

"Yell your guts out if you want," he said. "Nobody can hear you."

He lunged forward to get the head of his cock into the tight opening. Kitty clenched her teeth, trying not to cry out from the pain, her face buried in the crotch of his work pants wadded in the chair, pants still damp from sweat.

He lunged deeper, penetrating virgin territory, painfully, steadily.

The pants began to smell sweet as Kitty became dizzy from a combination of pain and pleasure.

"Stop!" she said. "Please, please stop!"

He lunged harder, deeper.

She licked the crotch of his sweat-soaked pants, then sucked the moist material into her mouth and chewed it. It tasted salty, then sweet.

The pain in her ass soon lessened. His fingers reached for her pussy, working her clit. She felt his fingers become moist and slick from her fuck-fluids.

She sighed, feeling all of her inhibitions dissolve in the acid thrill of supreme pleasure. She licked at his pants, his shirt, wishing for his shorts, his socks. She had a hunger for any and all of him.

"Yes!" she screamed. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me, James! Fuck my ass!"

His come gushed into her body, then rolled in a warm sticky stream down the inside of her thigh.

She felt like she was going to faint. She fought it.

The sensation was too great, too wonderful to miss.

She didn't want to faint. She wanted to feel.

She had a strange urge to roll over and lick his come from the inside of her leg.

"Enough?" he asked, returning from the kitchen with another boilermaker.

Kitty stood on wobbly legs, clutching his discarded pants in her hand. She pressed the wadded piece of clothing to her face and inhaled deeply.

"There'll never be enough," she whispered.

James nodded skeptically, with disbelief. She would change her mind tomorrow, after she thought of what she had to lose if her husband found out. They all thought like that in the light of a new day. Then she would decide to climb back into the role of proper housewife.

"I want to see you again," she said, rubbing her hand between his legs, offering her lips, her tongue, thrilling to the feel of his unshaven face, the vile smell of beer and whiskey on his breath, the taste of her pussy-juices in his mouth.

She would change her mind, he thought. Her type always did after fearing a suspicious glance from the husband who paid all the bills.

What the hell, he'd make it easy for her. And why not? There were others out there, bored, huffing, just waiting for the right moment, the right man. James never had a problem finding a woman.

He grasped her left tit and squeezed until she cried out in pain, falling on her knees before him. Instead of screaming in protest as he expected, her mouth opened, her tongue lapped at his cock like a puppy wanting to please a master.

He slapped his semi-hard cock hard against one side of her face, then slapped the palm of his hand against the other.

"Get the hell out!" he said harshly, shoving her toward the door. He threw her clothes at her then disappeared into the kitchen for another beer and whiskey.

Kitty returned home in a daze -- hurt and confused -- but physically satisfied, totally satisfied. She felt grateful for the pain and confusion. It would help her to do what she knew she had to do.

CHAPTER TWO

Harold returned from San Francisco elated, but not for the reason Kitty wanted him to be slated. It wasn't because he'd missed her.

"I think I've got that financial consulting contract lined up," be said happily. "I've got some more pound work to do, some more rails to grease. But they've given me a lot of encouragement."

"Does this mean you'll be spending some time in 'Frisco?" she asked.

"For a while. I've got to stay on it until the deal is signed."

A week later he announced he was going to the coast again. Kitty accepted the news stoically.

The morning he was to leave, she packed while Harold ate breakfast and read the morning paper. She took off her robe, brushed her hair and applied a light layer of makeup.

Standing before the full-length mirror in their bedroom, she noticed the perfect arch of her legs as light streamed through the short, thin gown. Her large dark nipples were as visible as if seen through a thin veil of smoke.

"When does your plane leave, darling?" she asked, taking the bag to the kitchen.

Harold didn't look up from the paper. "Eleven-thirty."

"Then you have an hour or so to kill."

She took the coffee pot to the table and gave him a refill.

"I'll miss you, Harold," she said, her tit touching his arm.

"You'll have a chance to catch up on some housework."

Harold finished his coffee and the paper simultaneously, picked up his bag, kissed his wife on the cheek, and left.

Kitty watched through the living room window as his car left the driveway. Reaching under her gown, between her legs, she was surprised to find her pussy totally wet.

She was surprised and excited. Wildly excited.

Then she remembered that James wouldn't be there to work on their lawn that day. The excitement turned to disappointment.

Her fingers lunged deeper past the dripping edges of her cunt, into hot, moist flesh -- hungry flesh.

"Ohhhh!" she moaned, hearing her own echo in the caverns of the vast empty house. She moaned again as her lingers explored deeper, and faster.

Her entire body was shaking with desire as she dialed the phone. He worked only a couple of hours on Wednesday, early in the morning before the sun got too hot.

He would be home now, having a beer. Maybe taking a nap or a shower. She imagined him standing in the shower stall, his muscular body covered with soap, rivulets of water running down his chest, his flat stomach, down his long cock, dripping from his balls.

She squeezed the receiver as if it were his cock, hard in her hand -- then she licked it, just as he answered.

"What kind of game are you trying to play with me?" he asked. "I don't work your place for a week!"

"Wait! James! It's not a game. It's-it's one of the sprinkler heads."

"What about the sprinkler head?"

"It's broken! Water's shooting everywhere! Harold's gone to San Francisco again, there's nobody here. You've got to do something!"

"Oh shit!"

She knew he'd come. He wouldn't have slammed down the receiver that way if he wasn't planning to come.

She raced to the garage and got a hammer, then ran out the back door and searched frantically for the faucet that turned on the sprinklers. She turned it on full bore, then ran to one of the sprinkler heads near a row of tall bushes.

Water sprayed into her face as she swung the hammer twice, then three times, breaking the sprinkler head at its base. A steady stream of water shot straight up, hitting the overhanging bushes and cascading back down into a narrow gully that quickly began filling with water.

She hid the hammer, ripped off her soaked gown, and dived into the pool to cool off. He would be there soon. She would pretend to be surprised that he got there so quick. He would find her nude in the water and he would be hot and... "Not playing games, eh?" he said harshly, standing at the edge of the pool, staring down at her as he would a heap, of trash.

"James! You surprised me!"

"Bullshit!"

"I didn't know, how to turn it off!"

He held her wet gown up. "The same way you turned it on," he said, walking to the faucet and twisting it firmly.

"Too beautiful." She smiled, bending forward, licking flesh and muddy water until his cock stood high, then taking it in her mouth and going down into the muddy water, her tongue running circles around the head, the ridge, up and down the hard cock-shaft.

Her hair got wet and muddy, but she didn't care. She felt his hand, filled with a glob of mud, rubber back, her tits, then over her wet, hungry cunt. She loved it! She loved the feel of his hands through the gritty mud.

She loved the taste of his cock as it swelled inside her mouth.

He pulled her face to his, kissing her hard, his tongue driving into her mouth almost as deep as his cock had. She felt his mud-caked hands grabbing the cheeks of her ass, pulling her cunt to him. Then she felt that wonderful cock driving into her wet pussy.

She would have fainted with pleasure if she wasn't afraid she would miss the next exciting sensation.

"Fuck me, James! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" The deeper he drove into her, the more mud and sweat she felt and tasted, the more wildly excited she became.

"I want it all, James! Your cock! Your mouth! The feel of your ass! Your sweaty body! I want it all! All!"

She came with a long, shrill screw, her tongue in his ear, deep in his mouth, licking mud and sweat [missing text].

The mountain of water suddenly stopped.

"You better find yourself another lawn man," he growled.

"James! Wait!"

"You're looking for a Monday morning romance Kitty. That's not my bag, not any more."

His harsh words were like ice water in her face. She leaped out of the pool, standing nude before him. "All right, asshole, what do you want?"

"A woman who knows what she wants."

"I want my fantasies fulfilled."

"That's a start."

"With a man, a real man. A man like you."

"And then what?"

"On day at a time, James. One fuck at a time."

"You want to have your cake and eat, it too!"

"That's right, James. And I plan to eat a hell of a lot of it! If not with you, then someday else!"

His smile was slight, but it was a smile. Something she said had pleased him. He walked to the puddle of muddy water beside the hedge.

"Come here," he ordered. "Let's see if you can take it messy."

He undressed as she walked toward him, her lips parted, sweat beginning to form on her forehead, her upper lip.

He pulled her down into the dark shallow water, sitting so the head of his cock bobbed above the surface.

"Too dirty for you?" he asked.

[Missing text] from his eye lids. Her legs gripped him, pulling him into her deeper, harder.

They rolled out of the muddy water onto the damp, hot grass, the sun blistering down on their bare flesh.

She started to come a second time when she felt his cock grow and throb inside her wildly-excited pussy.

"That's it, James!" she screamed in ecstasy. "That's what I want! A man! A man! That's it!"

His come was hot and powerful. It gushed in her, then flowed over the lips of her pussy onto the grass.

"Enough?" he asked.

"No! No!"

He stood over her with a hose which leaped alive with a strong burst of fresh water, rinsing her hair, her face, her body. He aimed it at her cunt, still dripping with his come, and turned on the pressure.

She leaped up. He aimed the forceful stream at her ass.

She turned and ran toward him, grabbing the hose from his surprised hands, turning it on him. The force of the water hurt his balls, reddened his semihard cock. When he turned, she ran closer and stuck the nozzle against his asshole.

He tried to run. She followed him. He turned quickly, grabbing for the hose. She dodged, aiming the steady, burning stream at his balls.

She turned the nozzle, cutting the water to a trickle. "I can be a deadly weapon too, James. Or I can be a woman, like you've never seen before -- the kind of woman you have just brought out in me. Which will it be, James?"

He picked her up, burying his face in her full tits, licking nipples, then sticking his tongue in her belly button, then down to her cunt.

"You taste like muddy water," he said.

"That's only the icing on the cake."

He ate away the icing and got to the real meat, his tongue lapping hungrily at the pussy-juice that gushed forth.

"I'll take the woman," he said. "I'll take the woman's tits, the woman's ass, the woman's wet cunt. I'll take it all!"

"You better, James, you better!" Kitty grinned, thrilling to the feel of his tongue sliding into her pussy.

He dropped her into the pool, falling in with her. His tongue never left her cunt. She got a scissor-hold around his neck and held him under water until his teeth threatened to rip out her pussy-lips. When he came up for air, her mouth covered his her tongue searched for his, found it, caressed it.

She fell forward in the shallow water, her hands resting on steps and a handrail. She gripped both as his hard cock found her asshole and lunged forward.

She started to scream, but he pushed her face in the water, then plunged into her again. She no longer wanted to scream. When he pulled her face from the water, she was smiling and sighing happily. He came a second time, in her ass. She loved the feel of it, the newness of it, the completeness of it. Later they sat in the water, exhausted, fulfilled, happy.

"Why did you resist me, James?" she asked. "I thought you wanted to make love."

"So? What's wrong with making love?"

"It leads to falling in love, to making plans, to moving in together -- to spoiling everything."

"What do you want, James?"

"To fuck! To fuck a woman who wants to be fucked by a man. To enjoy a body that enjoys my body. And then to be free to live my life, as she is free to live hers."

"That's what I want, James. That's exactly what I want."

He smiled at her. "I know."

"What convinced you, James?"

"The way you sucked my cock in that muddy water. You really wanted it, all of it."

"I still want it!" She grinned, reaching for his prick, fondling it in her hand, clean now, as his cock was clean.

"You got it, Kitty," he said, as his cock began to rise to her touch.

CHAPTER THREE

James' rough rudeness stopped. A smile became his most common expression. He not only welcomed her to his world of erotic bliss through healthy fucking, but he introduced her to his friends who shared his free-wheeling life style.

The first were Clyde and Marcia who initially impressed Kitty as being a solidly married couple. In a sense, they were solidly married, but not to each other.

Clyde ran a fast-food restaurant in Flagstaff.

Marcia supported her dream of making it in television by working as a cocktail waitress in Beverly Hills at night and taking acting lessons and going for auditions during the day.

After Kitty got to know them, it seemed perfectly natural that both Clyde and Marcia kept secrets from their regular mates, but tine were no secrets between each other.

Kitty first saw them the second night Harold was in San Francisco. She and James had dinner in Scottsdale and returned to his small house for an evening of pleasure. There, in the middle of the living room floor, bare-assed, were Clyde and Marcia, watching a video of a porno movie like an old married couple killing an hour or so before bedtime.

Kitty was embarrassed at first. She had never watched porno movies with perfect strangers while they sat totally nude. James just laughed.

"They're my friends," he explained. "They meet in Phoenix every few weeks and usually stop by here to see if there's any action."

"And there usually is!" said Marcia, who had the body and face of a television star. She had long, brown hair, three shades lighter than the triangular patch between her shapely legs. Her suntan was total, with no white lines anywhere.

Clyde was by comparison, several years older. Kitty assumed he had a very successful job to afford a beauty like Marcia. Then she glanced over the rest of his body and immediately changed her mind. Her eyes froze on the long limp cock between his legs. "See something you like?" Marcia asked with a smile.

Kitty was embarrassed. "I'm-I'm sorry. I guess I was staring."

"Don't apologize," Marcia laughed. "When you see something you want, go for it I say."

"I can't imagine any woman going for that," Kitty said, unable to take her eyes from the beauty of Clyde's cock.

"Don't forget, I'm a family man," Clyde laughed. "And I'm a close friend of the family." Marcia smiled, rubbing his long cock with her long, white fingers.

Kitty stared spell-bound as Marcia played with it. She started to say something, then stopped.

"No secrets here." Marcia smiled. "What's on your mind?"

"I was just wondering -- do you share?" Kitty felt her inhibitions melt away.

"I prefer to trade," Marcia replied. With her free hand, she pawed at James' fly.

"You got yourself a deal!" Kitty grinned. She untied one string and dropped her loose-fitting dress to her feet. She wore nothing under it but a pair of high-heeled shoes.

Even Marcia was impressed by Kitty's ivory-like body. "Did you ever consider show business?"

Kitty smiled. "You make me feel like I'm on stage now."

"You are, honey," Clyde said, his eyes bugging at her full tits, then down her flat stomach.

"Easy," James cautioned. "Kitty hasn't been in our world long enough to know her way around yet."

"She needs an experienced guide," Clyde replied, picking her up and heading for one of the two bedrooms.

Kitty had always considered sex a private affair, but she found herself liking the openness. There was something free and honest about it. But it wasn't openness or freedom or honesty that interested her at the moment.

It was Clyde's gorgeous cock, which she couldn't wait to feel stuffed into her cunt.

He placed her gently on the bed, then lay beside her, on his back, and wafted.

"You should get acquainted with it first," he said.

She touched his cock, gingerly, as if expecting it to leap up and stroke her. His cock remained perfectly still. She leaned over it to examine his cock more cloudy, cupping his cock in the palms of both hands.

Kitty touched his cock with the tip of her tongue. "It's like velvet," she whispered.

"Not when it's hard."

"We'll see," Kitty said, taking the cock-head completely in her mouth and sucking gently. She fondled his balls with her fingers, then rubbed her forefinger around his asshole.

"Do you mind?" Clyde asked politely, turning his lanky body around on the bed to get a closer look at her pussy. His tongue darted out.

It felt like hot lightning struck between Kitty's legs. Her mouth opened wide. The enormous cock came alive and plunged deep into her throat.

The mixture of pleasure and surprise were so great she thought far a moment she had passed out. The next thing she felt was his tongue knifing quickly between the lips of her cunt, deep into her wet pussy, then the mouthful of cock crashing deeper into her mouth.

She thought she would gag one instant and scream with erotic delight the next.

"Don't try to take it all." Clyde said. "It can't be done."

Then his tongue, long and fast and slick, shot into her pussy, and her mouth opened wider, to take still more of that beautiful and growing cock. She drew back and looked at it standing tall and straight, no longer feeling like velvet, but like steel.

"I've got to have it!" she screamed. "I've got to!"

She straddled him, holding his prick between her legs, guiding it into her wet pussy. Slowly she eased her body down, feeling her cunt swell to accept him. Her pussy-juice ran down the shank of his cock, greasing the way.

"Not too fast," Clyde said. "Don't try to take it all at once."

"I want it!" Kitty screamed. "I want all of it! I want it now! Now!"

She struggled to get her cunt down, to slide the hard cock-pole fully inside her.

"It burns, Clyde!" she said, gritting her teeth. "I feel like you'll split me in two!"

"Easy," Clyde whispered. "Just take it slow and easy."

"No! I want it, Clyde! I don't give a damn if you do split me in two. I want it!"

She lunged down, breaking Clyde's restraining grip, her pussy sliding farther down the long cockpole. She screamed, then buried her face in his shoulder to muffle further screams.

Kitty didn't want anybody running to her rescue, to save her from the delicious pain this beautiful cock was causing. She wanted all of it, and she was determined to take it all, now.

She lunged again, screaming louder this time in spite of a mouth full of Clyde's shoulder that muffled much of the sound. The pain was unbearable, but the thrill, the wonderful pleasure, was not to be interrupted.

She reached down to find all of his cock hadn't gone in yet. She smiled, in spite of the pain, working her pussy up and down his greased cock-shaft, getting adjusted to what she had taken, getting ready to accept the rest of it -- gratefully.

She felt two hands caress her tits, even as Clyde's hands held the cheeks of her ass, trying to hold her up, to keep her from taking it too quick. She felt soft lips on her neck, then on her mouth.

They were women's lips, soft and scented. She felt a woman's tongue touch her tongue, and opened her mouth eagerly. She was literally floating in a sea of sheer pleasure, with lips on her lips, that beautiful cock still not in her completely, and masculine hands massaging her tits, her ass.

No woman could ask for more. She closed her eyes and floated, hoping it would never end. Never.

"Easy, Kitty," James whispered from what sounded like a great distance. Then she felt his breath on her nipples and knew he was there, right there.

"You have to get used to a man like Clyde," Marcia whispered, running her tongue around the edge of Kitty's lips. "You can't take it all in this position. Not the first time."

"I love it," Kitty said. "I love all of it! I want all of it!"

She felt them begin to lift her body and immediately struggled to resist.

"No! No! You can't take his cock away! Not yet!"

"We won't take it away, Kitty," James whispered. His voice was calm and friendly. The sound of his voice calmed Kitty, until they began lifting her again.

As Clyde's hard cock began coming out of her eager cunt, Kitty doubled her struggle. They, held her arms and legs. Marcia kissed her eyes, her nose, her mouth, calming her somewhat with the touch of tongues.

"There's no stopping her," Marcia said. "I know the feeling. She has to prove something to herself, that she can take it all. She also wants it all, desperately. God, how I remember the feeling my first time."

"Then let's get her in position," James said. "You ready, Clyde?"

"My time."

Marcia and James flipped Kitty off Clyde and onto her knees with one quick movement. Marcia placed a pillow under Kitty's face, holding it down on the mattress.

Clyde got up on his knees, behind Kitty, as James spread her legs and the lips of her cunt, getting her positioned for Clyde to enter dog fashion.

"Hurry!" Kitty screamed. "Please hurry!"

Clyde accommodated by ramming his cock in, halfway, enough to put a satisfied smile on Kitty's worded face.

"Oh, that's good," Kitty whispered, closing her eyes once again and drifting into a sea of sexual bliss as Clyde began working his prick in, slowly, then gradually picking up speed. Little by little, he eased more into her hungry pussy.

"Marcia?" Kitty said. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, Kitty. I'm right here."

"It's so damn good, Marcia. I've never had anything like this!"

She felt James' hands once again massaging her tits, increasing her pleasure.

"Kiss me, Marcia," Kitty said, in a dream-like state of pleasure. "I want to taste your tongue. I want to suck your [missing text]."

Marcia kissed her, offering her tongue for Kitty's added pleasure.

Clyde continued moving in and out, her pussy taking his prick and giving fuck-juices in return.

"I think she's ready," he said.

"Easy," Marcia warned.

Clyde went in deeper.

"Ohhhh!" Kitty screamed painfully, her entire body stiffening.

"Want him to stop?" Marcia whispered.

"No! Don't stop? Oh my God, don't stop. I'm, I'm coming! I'm coming! I feel like I'll never stop coming! Don't stop! Don't stop!"

Clyde didn't. He lunged in to the hilt, then again. Flesh smacked flesh as the entire room emitted waves of sensual pleasure, physical fulfillment.

"James!" Marcia shrieked. "Get behind me! I can't stand this!"

James ran around the bed to kneel behind her, his cock throbbing from hearing Kitty's sounds of female passion and satisfaction. He rammed his cock in without preliminaries, and wasn't surprised to find Marcia wet and ready.

Marcia kissed Kitty again, then kissed her tit, then her mouth again.

James broke into a sweat trying to make up for lost time.

Clyde continued going in and out, slowly, but completely. His hands suddenly rasped the chocks of Kitty's ass as his cock throbbed toward climax.

"I'm coming again!" Kitty screamed. "It's wonderful!"

Kitty finished first, reaching such heights of ecstasy she felt totally out of this world -- collapsing, falling into a peaceful, happy faint.

Clyde's come gushed into her pussy, then ran out the edges, dripping down her thigh.

Marcia did a quick flip, falling back on the floor and pulling James into her. They hardly missed a beat.

She grinned as she soared toward climax, at the same time feeling James' cock throb inside her, spraying his fuck-juices deep inside her.

"It's always so good here," Marcia said breathlessly. "Oh, James, it's always so damned good here, in this house. And there's always action."

CHAPTER FOUR

Kitty met Harold's flight from San Francisco. He gave her a peck on the lips and hurried to the parking lot.

"Did you get the financial consulting contract?" she asked.

"It's in the bag!" He grinned proudly.

She knew better than to wait in the car while Harold tied up a few loose ends in the office. He rarely went to the office for a few minutes and got out in less than an hour. She would have roasted in that time sitting in the car.

Sarah Bennit, Harold's private secretary, web corned Kitty with her usual business-like smile.

"He shouldn't be long." Sarah smiled politely. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thank you," Kitty replied, admiring Sarah's trim figure and quick, efficient moves. She figured Sarah spent three nights a week working out to keep herself in such good condition.

"You must jog or swim to keep in such good shape," Kitty said.

"I swim laps most every night," Sarah replied.

"With your boyfriend?"

"No. By myself."

She's frigid, thought Kitty. A pity. She decided to make one last check, just to make sure.

"Doesn't your boyfriend like to swim?" she asked.

"My ex-boyfriend had another sport in mind. I sent him packing."

Frigid, thought Kitty. No doubt about it. As Sarah walked back into Harold's office, Kitty paid particular attention to her ass. Sarah had a lovely ass.

What a waste, thought Kitty.

She wondered what Clyde would think of an ass like that.

Harold finished in slightly less than an hour and they headed home, changing quickly into swimming suits for a dip before dinner. Kitty was careful not to get her hair wet.

Harold barbecued steaks and they ate outside, after his evening ritual of watching the news on TV.

After dinner, Kitty poured drinks and they sat on the patio in silence. The night air was warm, but not uncomfortably so.

"I feel like another dip before going to bed," she said, stripping down nude and casing into the water, careful to keep her hair dry.

Harold soon joined her and immediately began swimming lengths. His busy schedule didn't allow him a regular time for exercise, but he always managed to grab a few minutes here and there to swim lengths, jog a mile or so, or just rim in place in his office or a hotel room.

"Did you ever think of taking up golf?" Kitty asked, when he finished.

"I used to play every week," he reminded her. "Only with clients, when you were getting started. It wasn't playing, it was another form of work."

"I don't have time for golf any more," he said. "How about time for me," she replied, reaching between his legs in the water, caressing his limp prick, his balls.

Harold looked surprised. He was accustomed to being the aggressor when it came to sex.

"Do you mind?" Kitty asked, smiling impishly, squeezing his cock gently.

"It's not like you," he said.

"Maybe I'm becoming a new woman. Do you mind?"

He smiled, hesitantly. "Of course not."

"We need to loosen up a little, Harold," she said, putting his hand on her tit, then down her flat belly, between her legs. "If you haven't got time for it, then. I'll have to show a little more initiative."

"Are you suggesting I've been neglecting you, Kitty?"

She kissed him lightly. "Want an honest answer?"

"Yes, an honest answer."

"Yes, you've been neglecting me."

She kissed him again, touching his tongue with hers.

His cock began to harden in her hand. She reached for a towel beside the pool and spread it neatly on the cool pool deck near them.

"Out you go," she said, grabbing a cheek of his ass and pushing him out of the pool, onto the towel.

He responded like a baby, lying on his back as she directed, looking at the star-filled sky.

Standing in the shallow water, she leaned over the side of the pool and took his semi-hard cock in her mouth, sucking it gently, fondling his balls delicately.

He took her free hand and squeezed it, closing his eyes, feeling his body relax as it hadn't relaxed in a long time.

She continued sucking, running her tongue up and down his shaft, as his cock hardened, then quivered.

He pulled her hand to his mouth and began sucking her fingers.

She continued sucking his cock as his warm come spurted into her mouth, then dripped down her chin. She sucked, less eagerly, until his cock was once again limp.

Harold remained perfectly still for a long moment, his eyes closed. Then he opened them, and looked at his wife's smiling face.

"What's happened to you, Kitty?" he asked suspiciously.

"Do you mind?"

He looked away, then sat up, his face troubled. "I don't know."

CHAPTER FIVE

Kitty was awake at dawn the morning James was scheduled to work on their lawn. As soon as the first light of day eased through the drapes, she heard his pick-up truck pull into the driveway. Her entire body stiffened with desire.

She tiptoed into the bathroom, showered quickly and after drying, perfumed her body everywhere he might touch, or smell -- which was everywhere.

"Couldn't you sleep?" Harold asked, sitting up in bed to stare at the clock.

"I want to do the laundry while it's cool," she said.

"What's the weather got to do with it? The washer and dryer are in an air-conditioned house!"

"I want to hang the clothes outside. The air freshens them."

"Oh." He rolled over as if going back to sleep. But he didn't sleep. He listened as Kitty got the dirty clothes sorted and began dumping them into the washer.

He stayed in the shower longer than usual, thinking, then shaved and dressed for the office.

Kitty was hanging laundry outside when he went to the kitchen for coffee and the paper. He'd never seen her hang laundry outside before and wondered if this was the first time, or if he just hadn't noticed.

Glancing out the window, he saw her talking to James, which pleased him. James was an unusually good lawn man, the best they'd ever had. He hoped Kitty would be pleasant to him, make him feel at home.

He got the paper and poured a cup of coffee. Kitty was so nervous she kept dropping clothes pins, which James obligingly retrieved.

"I'm ready," she whispered. "I'm really ready for you, James!"

"Having husband problems?" he asked.

"No problems. But no excitement either, not like you provide."

"Men are men, Kitty. None of us are that different."

"When I suck your cock, you eat my pussy. That's a big difference in my book."

James grinned. "Maybe he wasn't hungry."

"He rats his work," Kitty said. "I want a man who likes it! A man who knows how to handle it!"

"I'll be through at ten," he said. "And my cock will be as hard as a hoc handle!"

"I'll be ready!"

James went back to trimming hedges. Kitty finished hanging the clothes and went inside to see what her husband wanted for breakfast, feeling her cunt moisten just thinking about ten o'clock.

At times like this, she wished she had a vibrator she could stick in her wet pussy and leave there, just to settle her down. It was eight-thirty. She'd be climbing the wall by ten.

"I've been thinking about it, Kitty," Harold said, the moment she stepped inside. "I've decided you're right."

"About what?"

"I've been neglecting you lately, putting work ahead of everything else. There's got to be some changes."

"Really?"

"Isn't that what you want?"

"Of course, Harold. Of course!"

He reached for the phone and called the office. "Sarah, I'll be late today. If anything urgent needs any attention, call me at the Twin Oaks Motel... just ask the switchboard operator to ring my room... business, Sarah. Personal business."

Kitty smiled.

"Put on something skimpy," he said to his wife as he hung up the phone. "Something revealing. Nobody will see you."

"Now? You mean..."

"A new environment, new surroundings. Spur of the moment! That's what our marriage needs!"

A wave of disappointment swept through Kitty as they backed out of the driveway, unable to even see James as be hurried to finish the back yard. She glanced at her watch. It was nine-thirty.

There was no way she could get back by ten. She imagined James bouncing through the back door of their house, cock exposed, ready for action -- and finding none. He would understand. That wasn't the problem.

What a waste of good hard cock. That was the problem.

Harold stood beside their bed in the motel, his cock limp, but his face filled with the pride of accomplishment, even though he hadn't accomplished anything yet.

Coming to the motel was Harold's accomplishment. He had been notified of a problem -- wifely neglect -- and he was flow acting to solve the problem.

"Is there anything you want?" he asked. "Anything special, I mean?"

Kitty couldn't bring herself to tell him she wanted to be eaten. Wives didn't ask for things like that. Wives, or at least the kind of wives Harold knew anything about, wanted only to please their husbands.

"I want to please you," she said meekly.

"Good." He smiled, continuing to stand proudly beside the bed. "How about trying it as I stand?"

"Lovely." Kitty sat up, swinging her legs around his, leaning forward to accept his soft prick in her lips.

"You love that, don't you," Harold said, getting quickly hard, beginning to breathe deep.

"Uh-huh."

She wasn't telling her husband an untruth. She did love it. She loved the feel of it, the taste of it. She loved the swelling of his cock in her moth, the baby-like texture of the cock-bulb as it began to throb against her tongue. She loved every minute of it.

But her pussy got more and more wet and more and more hungry. She wanted more than just a cock in her mouth, sweet as that was. She wanted something inside her cunt. A cock. A tongue. A pair of eager lips.

"Enjoy yourself," Harold said, supremely confident that he was giving his wife the attention a wife needed.

He was on the verge of coming when the phone rang. The phone came first.

"Yes, Sarah," he said, as alert to business as ever. "I've been expecting that call. Yes, it's very important. Just a second, let me get a pencil. I want to get the exact wording."

He opened his briefcase and took out a pen and pad, then sat in a chair beside a small round table near the bed.

"Okay, Sarah, shoot," he said, and began scribbling as his secretary dictated. "Great! That's just like we'd planned!"

He paused, looking at Kitty sitting silently in the bed, her bare tits hanging idle, as if abandoned.

"Come here, darling," he said, holding his hand over the mouthpiece. "There's no need in your stopping just because of this call."

Kitty paused, looking at her watch. It was almost eleven. James had finished his work, and gone by now. What a fucking waste!

No, not completely. James wouldn't let it go to waste. He'd take that beautiful body and hard cock of his somewhere else. Knowing him, Kitty figured it wouldn't take him ten minutes to find another pussy eager to get it.

She looked at Harold, still smiling at her, still holding his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, inviting her to join him.

"You're here to enjoy," he whispered. "Don't be bashful."

She crawled out of bed, sat on the floor between his legs, and began licking his cock, feeling a sight sense of accomplishment when it began to rise once again.

"All right, Sarah," he said into the phone. "Go over that last paragraph once more. I want to get it right."

Kitty wanted to get it right too. She sucked harder, practicing the manipulation of her tongue up and down his hard cock, around its head. Practice makes perfect, she thought.

She wanted to get it so right that if something like this ever happened again, James would be so eager for her, he would wait rather than look elsewhere.

She must have done something right. Harold came in a matter of minutes.

"That was wonderful, darling," he said. Kitty had to look up to see if he was talking to her or was still on the phone. He was talking to her. The receiver as in its cradle.

"It's refreshing, isn't it?" he asked. "A new place, a new time."

Kitty felt a wave of resentment. He was satisfied. She still had a hungry pussy.

The phone rang again. Harold answered it after the first ring. "Yeah, Sarah, I understand. Tell him I'll be there in about twenty minutes."

Kitty dressed, feeling cheap and overly exposed in her flimsy dress, with no bra or panties, as she walked to the car with a man in a business suit.

He was back in his business world, miles away, thinking about the meeting he was going to attend.

They were in such different worlds. Kitty was thinking about James -- and Clyde and Marcia -- and she wondered whom James was eating right now.

CHAPTER SIX

At first she thought James was trying to teach her a lesson for having stood him up. He sent a substitute to work in the lawn the following week, without bothering to call and explain.

The substitute was a jolly man, easy to talk to and even though he didn't move as fast as James, he worked longer and was very thorough. He was also a grandfather, and the only thing of a personal nature he offered to show Kitty were pictures of his grandchildren.

She bought a vibrator. Better that than nothing. When Harold came home from the office, tired from an afternoon meeting that stretched to dark, she attacked him like a starved fox emerging from a forest fire.

Harold didn't resist, but be was even more passive than usual. She sucked his cock, then got on top and pound her pussy onto his cock until he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Once again Kitty lay awake for hours -- hurting until her trusty vibrator finally eased her fiery passion.

The following week James returned. "Are you pissed?" Kitty asked. "Why should I be pissed?"

"I had to leave. My husband..." James laughed. "I'm used to seeing the best-laid plans shattered by unpredictable husbands, or wives. That's why I decided long ago not to try marriage again."

"Then you aren't pissed?"

"Hell no!"

Kitty smiled, feeling relieved. "Care to come in for a glass of iced tea when you finish?"

James shook his head. "I'm afraid you might be a little naive, Kitty."

"I don't understand."

"Your husband. He suspects something."

"Why do you say that?"

"Why else would he decide to take you off to a motel just after seeing you talk to me in the back yard?"

Kitty laughed. "You've got it wrong, James, really. He doesn't think about anything but business. It's his entire life!"

"Don't make book on that, Kitty. You know your husband, but I know men in general."

"Then you won't come inside?"

"Nothing personal, Kitty. The idea of being shot by a jealous husband doesn't scare me, but I'd hate to have it happen in his own bed. No jury in the land would avenge my death."

Kitty grinned. "No problem. How about another bed?"

"I've got a couple of friends dropping by this afternoon. You're welcome to join us if you like."

Kitty grinned happily. "I'll be there!" She got busy finishing her housework, then taking a shower and selecting the right clothes, or lack of them, for an afternoon with James and his friends.

He had such interesting friends. She wondered if Clyde might be there. She had been sore a week after that night with Clyde, but it was worth it. God! What a wonderful cock?

It was as if her idle thoughts had willed it. Clyde phoned.

"My wife is visiting her mother on the coast," he said. "Interested?"

"What about Marcia?" Kitty asked.

Clyde laughed. "I saw her last week. She suggested you!"

Kitty could understand that. Marcia was probably still too sore to walk. She would be only too happy to have him call in some reserves.

"Not here," she said, remembering James' remarks about Harold's possible suspicions.

"Here then," Clyde replied. "You can drive up in a couple of hours, be back home in plenty of time for dinner."

The idea was terribly exciting, but the thought of driving all the way to Flagstaff for a rendezvous with a big cock made Kitty hesitate.

"I've installed a gadget in my bedroom that will interest you," Clyde said.

"What kind of gadget?"

"You'll have to see it. I designed it myself."

"You're being awfully mysterious."

"It's hard to explain over the phone. I got the idea watching them breed thoroughbred race horses. You'll love it!"

"Sounds interesting, but..."

"Think about it. I'll be expecting you tomorrow." He hung up before Kitty could reply. She was glad. She didn't want to accept without thinking about it. On the other hand, she didn't want to reject the invitation outright.

No woman in her right mind, or right body, would reject an invitation from a man like Clyde without good reason.

She put it out of her mind and drove to James' house.

The couple of friends James had mentioned turned out to be a couple of women.

"This is Ethel," James said, pointing to a slight, shy-looking young woman who looked like she might burst into tears if somebody screamed at her.

She had a pretty face, thin and void of much makeup. She looked pale, as if she needed both sleep and a shot of vitamins.

"And this is Big Edith," James continued. Big Edith was as large and robust as Ethel was thin and withdrawn. She wore jeans with a western belt and a cotton shirt that hugged her huge tits. She wore western boots and her hair looked like she'd brushed it with a hay rake.

Big Edith shook Kitty's hand like a longshoreman. "You really pick some lookers, James!" She smiled, looking Kitty over from top to bottom.

"I thought you'd be pleased," James said. Kitty sat down, slightly frightened, but also fascinated. There was something about the commanding presence of Big Edith that aroused her admiration, as well as a sensual desire.

The shy, shadow-like Ethel, rested her head on Edith's large thigh. Ethel patted her hair, gently, like an old man pats the head of his dog.

"Understand you've been trying to turn your husband on by blowing him," Edith said, matter-of-factly.

Kitty looked at James, who sat with an innocent smile. "I don't know who told you that!"

Edith looked at Kitty a moment, still patting Ethel's hair gently. She started to get out of the chair.

"Tell you what, James," she said. "She's got everything it takes, just like you said. Give her a few months more to join the world of the living, to get out of the strait-jacket she's in. Then call me."

James looked at the silent Ethel as if he wanted to reach for her hand, his eyes filled with disappointment.

"I like to suck his cock," Kitty said, suddenly getting the picture. "What's it to you?"

Edith settled back in her chair, a hungry smile lighting her wide face. She pushed Ethel's head away from her thigh.

"Go talk to Uncle James," she said. "Mama's got some business with this lady."

Ethel crawled across the floor like a trained pet, curling up to next to James who put a protective arm around her, then touched his lips to her forehead.

"How about some cool wine?" he asked. "Wouldn't a glass of cool white wine taste nice?"

Ethel's eyes lit up as she nodded. James led her toward the kitchen.

"So you suck your husband's cock to put sonic life in him, and all it does is put him to sleep. Right?" Edith asked Kitty.

"He has a lot on his mind," Kitty replied defensively.

Edith laughed. "But he won't eat your pussy, even after you..."

"He thinks it's nasty."

"Eating pussy? Nasty?"

"That's what be thinks."

"Did he ever tell you that?" Edith asked.

"Not in so many words. I just know that's the way he feels."

"But he figures it's all right if you suck his cock?" Kitty felt herself being boxed into the losing corner of an argument she didn't want to pursue.

"I didn't come here to talk about my husband," she said.

Big Edith laughed again. She had a deep, confident laugh. The laugh of a person with power. "Of course you didn't. You came here to get laid, to suck somebody else's cock, to have your pussy eaten in return. Isn't that right?"

Kitty sat straight on the short footstool, spreading her legs. She wore no undergarments.

"Maybe. Let's have a sample," she said.

Big Edith frowned. "I don't crawl for a pussy!" Kitty smiled and started to rise. "Then I'm wasting my time here."

"Wait a minute, Kitty!"

Kitty spread her legs wider, pulling the dress high up her thighs, exposing the full patch of dark cunt-hair.

"Crawl!" she said.

Big Edith gritted her teeth, then leaned forward, frowning. "You're coming out of your cocoon a little too fast my friend, too fast for your own good, maybe."

"I'll decide what's for my own good," Kitty replied. "Do you want it or not?"

Big Edith stood.

"No, no!" Kitty smiled. "Crawl!" Big Edith paused, looking around the empty room, then bent down on all fours and crawled between Kitty's parted legs, her tongue dripping saliva as it touched the sweetness of fresh pussy.

"Good!" Kitty squealed. "My God, you're good!"

Edith's tongue went up and down, lapping at sweet juices, then plunged forward with the power of a snake striking.

Kitty fell to the floor, moaning with delight. Edith stayed with her, her face buried in wet cunt hair, her fat lips nibbling at moist pussy-lips, her tongue darting in and out, then up and down.

Kitty's head began to spin out of control. She tried to think of Harold's passive indifference, of James' endurance, of Clyde's long, beautiful cock.

Big Edith's magical tongue washed away all such thoughts, all former desires and passions. Edith's active tongue opened a whole new world, a world of color and joy, a sensuous world of lust.

Her tongue grew with Kitty's passion, touching places never touched before, penetrating areas never explored by man, or woman. It slid in easily, left its sting of glorious passion, then slid out, only to return to sting again, and again, filling Kitty with both desire and fulfillment, total satisfaction and a deep hunger for more, and still more.

Kitty came, then came again almost immediately. There was no let-down between orgasms. The third time she came, it seemed to last an eternity, then exploded into a mild unconsciousness.

Kitty was only faintly aware of being lifted in powerful arms, protective arms, of being carded to a bed and placed gently on pillows. Then she felt the magical tongue in her mouth, bringing with it the odor of pussy, the sweet odor of sweet pussy.

She opened her eyes just as a mass of pink cuntflesh, surrounded by dark ridges of hair, was gently lowered to her face. She smelled its exhilarating fragrance. Felt its moist warmth. She tasted its sweetness.

Kitty's tongue searched the moist caverns of pussy-flesh, as it finding a home. She ran her tongue faster until she heard Big Edith gasp, then cry with joy. She pushed her face into the mass of wet cuntmeat and ran her tongue faster and still faster.

Big Edith stiffened, then screamed like an animal in ecstasy, her high thighs grasping Kitty's head, refusing to release her.

Suddenly, the black darkness was gone. The soft pussy-flesh was gone. Kitty was on her back, looking at the ceiling, feeling full and content and totally spent.

There was a shrill scream from the adjoining room, followed by a wild shriek. The scream was masculine. The shriek was feminine, and in full control full of pleasure.

Then there was total silence.

"She gets too excited sometimes," Big Edith said, explaining the strange sounds from the adjoining room. "She takes everything a man has to offer, and still wants more. She has her own way of letting him know she wants more."

"How's that?" Kitty asked.

"She bites his balls."

The mental picture of it made Kitty laugh. "I'm glad I don't have balls!"

"You'd have to watch her anyhow. Once she bit into my left nipple until she damn near ripped it off."

"I can't imagine her wanting any more from a woman that you could give her."

Big Edith smiled. "Don't let her shy, little-girl ways fool you. Behind that tender, baby face lies a tigress who knows just what she wants, and she'll rip hell out of anybody who doesn't give it to her."

Kitty put her lips to Edith's large nipple and ran her tongue around it gingerly.

"I think I like you better, Edith," she whispered. "You're gentle."

"That's because you're all woman, Kitty. James is a man. Men like to have their balls chewed off every now and then."

There was another loud scream from James, more horrifying this time, followed by a shrill laugh from Ethel.

Kitty laughed. "He must be having the time of his life!"

Big Edith had a deep, husky, soft laugh. Kitty felt perfectly comfortable, and safe, nestled against her massive tits like a little girl.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kitty wouldn't have paid any attention to the guy if he hadn't been in a late-model Buick. She might have noticed the way he stared at her. But she was accustomed to men staring at her. If it hadn't been for the car he was in, she would have thought he was just checking out the scenery while waiting for his wife, or girlfriend.

The expensive, new car made all the difference. James lived in a pick-up-truck neighborhood, with family cars that had dents and needed washing. The driver was not a native and his interest in Kitty wasn't the usual male eye looking for a shapely female ass to admire.

Kitty watched in her rear-view mirror as he pulled out behind her. She quickly turned off onto another neighborhood street and reduced her speed. In a matter of seconds she saw the Buick, a gleaming white, in her rear-view mirror again.

She stopped at a mini-market for gas. When she pulled out, the Buick was waiting.

She drove home, put her car in the garage and closed the door, then went inside. Five minutes later she opened the garage door and backed out, driving straight to the parking lot beside her husband's office building.

The white Buick was parked in the visitors' section, empty. The bastard! she thought.

Then she thought of James. He'd been right all along.

Even as she rowed through the spacious house she loved, touching or admiring the expensive furniture, the gleaming gadgets, she refused to worry about losing it all. Instead she began making plans to keep it.

Harold hadn't been too excited when she was the aggressor, when she led him by the hand to new sexual delights. Nor had the been overly impressed when she played the pet-puppy role, bowing at his feet, licking his cock like a servant while he talked on the phone.

Well, there were other ways to attract a man -- and she wasn't thinking of cooking him a good meal.

She showered and perfumed -- everywhere, then spent long extra minutes brushing her hair, painting her eyes. Some men didn't respond to good service, to being treated like a king in his castle. They couldn't handle it.

They preferred to be subjugated.

When it was time for Harold to come home, she turned the lights off in their bedroom, with only a spot over her dressing table illuminating her face and hair.

She put on a sheer gown that hinted grandly of the prizes it covered, but only hinted. Nipples and cunt-hair showed through as dim shadows.

She would be aloof, distant -- coldly distant. If he wanted to make charges against her, she would listen, but she would not respond, neither to confirm nor to deny. She would merely listen, turning occasionally in such a way that the light on her face would dive into the cleavage between her tits.

She would not explain, respond, or even look at him. When he came to touch her, she would move just out of his reach. Men had fallen on their knees responding to such cold treatment, begging for just a feel, a touch.

Harold would too.

Her strategy planned, she brushed her hair and waited.

Only Harold didn't come home.

And the next morning Harold still wasn't home. She called his office. The receptionist said he would be late. Kitty asked to talk to Harold's secretary.

"I'm sorry," the receptionist replied, as if she enjoyed saying it. "Miss Bennit called in late too." Kitty slammed down the receiver. "That son-of-a-bitch!"

Experimenting with physical pleasures was one thing. Walking into the web of a cunt-scented secretary was something else!

He'd be in seventh heaven for a while. Sarah would lavish him with attention, listen to his sad story, sympathize with him, nurse him with her pussy. But that wouldn't last.

An overly ambitious secretary with a frigid ass couldn't hide her true nature long.

Poor Harold! My God, how he would learn! In the meantime, she decided to learn a few things herself, pleasant things, fun things, exciting things.

She closed up the house and drove to Flagstaff. "I've been expecting you." Clyde smiled, leading her into a well-furnished living room where he sprawled into a chair, still in his lounging pajamas. "Don't you want to get into something more comfortable?"

"I didn't bring anything else."

Clyde smiled. "That's what I mean, something more comfortable."

As Kitty peeled down, she began toning him about Harold and Sarah.

"You did the right thing," he said. "He's jealous and his ego is bruised. He's finding some solace with something new, but the newness will wear off soon. He'll be back."

Kitty noticed a bulge begin in the crotch of his pajamas as he stared at her tits, and then down between her legs. She felt completely at ease sitting nude before him, totally aware of the desire in his eyes, the swelling between his legs.

"You're hard to believe," she said. "I guess I would have had to come to you again, somewhere, some time, just to make sure you're real."

He walked to her chair, standing beside her, the bulge in his nylon pajamas inches from her face. "It's real. Touch it and see for yourself."

She reached through his fly and touched raw cockmeat, then opened the fly and let his prick flop out, bending hungry lips to kiss it.

Her mouth watered as she stared at his cock. She couldn't go on. It just sat there, slightly firm, luring her eyes, her mouth, her hot tongue. Words weren't enough to express the excitement she fell.

She licked the cock's entire length, then held the cock-head toward her, looking at the single eye lying half-asleep. She kissed it, licked it -- then took the entire cock-head in her mouth and sucked slowly.

Clyde dropped his pants as the enormous cock leaped forward for more.

"Patience, my dear," he said. "We have plenty of time."

"I know, but..." she took another mouthful, "...it's so good, so wonderful! I can't keep my mouth away from it."

He reached between her legs and found her moist pussy.

"It's not just your mouth that wants it." He smiled. "I'm sorry I don't have two of them."

She wanted to talk. Clyde was so easy to talk to, so patient and understanding. But she couldn't take her mouth from his marvelous prick.

"Come, my dear," he said, taking her hand, kissing a nipple as she stood beside him. "It's time for you to meet my special gadget."

"I didn't come to play with toys, Clyde."

He laughed. "You'll like this one. I made it myself."

It hung from the ceiling, over his massive water bed, consisting of a mass of heavy gauged nylon webbing, dangling from a metal rod of high-grade steel.

"What the hell is it?" Kitty asked, totally confused.

Clyde took a small box that looked like the remote-control unit Kitty used on her television set. He touched one button and the metal rod extended slowly down. The webbing fell to the sheet and spread out evenly.

"Lie down my dear," Clyde said.

"On that stuff?"

"I'll show you, just lie down."

He put each of her legs through flat, wide pieces of webbing, then smoothed a cradle of canvas under her back, and snapped a fur-covered strap around her neck.

"That's to hold your head up, my dear," he said. "Even if you fail asleep, your head will be cradled as safely as if you were in your mother's arms."

"I don't get it," Kitty said, feeling comfortable but trapped in the maze of webbing.

"You will get it, my dear!" Clyde smiled. "You'll get it like you've never had it before."

He punched a button on the remote-control box and Kitty felt herself being gradually lifted from the bed. She screamed, her body trapped in the maze of webbing.

"Patience, my dear. Patience."

Clyde positioned himself on the bed under her, then pushed another button. Kitty's body gradually descended. He pushed another button and her legs were slowly spread and lifted. She felt herself once again being lowered, right into Clyde's waiting face.

Her exposed cunt stopped at the tip of his tongue, which quickly went to work.

Kitty screamed gleefully. "I feel like I'm floating into a tongue!"

"You are my dear," Clyde said, lowering her more until his face was covered with moist, hairy pussy.

Kitty had never experienced such foreplay. She felt delightfully free, yet she was completely encased in the webbing, able to move only her thighs, which she pound back and forth across Clyde's face and darting tongue.

"I feel like a bird!" she squealed. "A bird getting it in flight!"

Clyde was too busy to reply. She didn't want him to reply. She wanted him to keep doing just what he was doing.

"Don't stop!" she screamed as she began climbing toward climax. "Don't stop!"

Clyde pushed the button again and she felt herself rising, beyond the reach of his tongue. "Don't Clyde! Don't stop!"

Suddenly she was descending again, stopping this time when her wet cunt touched the head of his erect cock. Kitty closed her eyes and waited for the thrill of her life.

He let her descend an inch at a time, slowly, steadily, his hard cock working as his tongue had worked, only harder and bigger.

"Easy, easy," Kitty cautioned. "No! Don't stop! For God's sake, don't stop! I want that hard cock right where it is, deeper even!"

Clyde punched another button and her body began rotating in the webbing, like a cork on rough sea. She went up and down on Clyde's erect cock, then around, then back and forth.

Kitty strained in the webbing, her eyes closed, her teeth clenched.

"Let the gadget do it," Clyde said, relaxing as her wet pussy moved up and down, then around in gentle circles, causing his cock to grow harder and more full.

"It's too good to just relax with," Kitty said. "I want to help it along. I want to..."

Clyde punched another button and Kitty's pussy began descending, then moving up and down rapidly.

"I-I can't breathe it's so good!" Kitty screamed. She gasped as she came, then held her breath and felt herself starting to come again. She relaxed and concentrated on feeling the sensuous pleasure, letting the gadget do all the work, moving her body up and down Clyde's long cock-pole, bending her legs into her belly, spreading them, twirling than around.

She was coming for a third time when the machine dropped her body as far down as it would go, cramming her cunt with long hard cock.

It was so sudden even Clyde gasped with surprise -- and sheer joy.

"You've got it, my dear!" he said, panting in spite of his total sense of relaxation. "You've got all of it!"

Kitty was too full of sheer pleasure to reply with more than a satisfied sigh as her orgasm continued taking her higher and higher into realms of physical pleasure she never knew existed.

She felt faint. Her body stiffened, then went completely limp.

"Shall I raise?"

"No!" she replied instantly. "No! No! No!"

She felt his total cock inside her pussy, filling her beyond belief, stretching the nerve to the point of explosion. She felt the head of his cock bumping inside her, the absolute end of the line. The cock-head began to throb, then swell.

He came with a sudden outpouring of warm fluid that Kitty could feel washing against the walls of her cunt.

It was too much. It was more than any woman could stand at one time.

"It's too, too wonderful!" She smiled, falling into a dead faint, delightfully and totally exhausted.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It took Kitty three days to revive from her delightful ordeal with Clyde.

James didn't come around, nor did he call. She didn't mind. She was perfectly content to be completely alone, to read and think and regain her strength.

On the fourth day she cleaned the house from top to bottom, refreshed herself with a nude swim, then sprawled out on a soft towel to absorb the sun's rays.

She didn't bother dressing when she heard Harold come in and go to their bedroom in search of fresh clothes. She remained stretched out in the sun, enjoying her solitude.

He took an arm-load of suits and shins to the car, then came back to search out fresh neck ties.

Kitty remained on her back, eyes closed, absorbing sun.

"Do you have anything you want to say?" he asked, coming to the patio where he stood in the shade, looking self-righteous.

"About what?"

"About your behavior. I must forewarn you, it's senseless to deny anything."

She looked at him with a smile. "Deny what, Harold?"

"I think you know what I have reference to. If you want to apologize for your actions, I'll listen."

Kitty turned her face to the suns closing her eyes. "Fuck off, Harold."

"It might interest you to know that I've hired another gardener," he said.

"How thoughtful of you."

"I've decided to give you some time to think about our situation," he added. "Until we decide where we go from here."

Kitty leaned back, closing her eyes again, feeling his eyes going over her tits. "Let me know when you decide. Our attorneys can work out the details."

"That might not be necessary, Kitty. We might be able to work something out between ourselves."

"I hope we can. I just want you to know that I'm not about to roll over and play dead if you take this serious and try to make a future with Sarah."

"She's being very helpful."

"And she gives lovely head, right?"

"Sarah doesn't look at sex exactly like you do, Kitty."

She looked at him again, puzzled. "How do I look at sex?"

"As some kind of adventure."

"And Sarah? How does she look at it?"

"I'm not sure yet. I sometimes think she just endures it."

Kitty smiled, leaning back, closing her eyes. "You two have that much in common."

Harold paused, his eyes running over the smoothness of her skin, the contours of her thighs and tits. "I'm not so sure of that, Kitty. You were beginning to open my eyes to a few things before you..."

"Before I what?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Did you pack your orange-and-beige tie?"

"No. Sarah never liked it. I could tell every time I walked in the office wearing it. It's not very business-like."

"She thinks like a man."

"What do you mean by that?" Harold asked. "She'll have you in all blues, browns and pays. That's great for the men to deal with, but the women like a dash of color, a little life. The orange tie is the best one you have for women."

Kitty sat up, her tits pointing straight out. She felt his eyes on them as she walked to the edge of the pool and dived in. The water felt cool on her tanned, hot skin.

"Don't you have anything to say in your defense?" Harold asked, frowning, yet unable to take his eyes from her tanned body floating in the water.

"What defense?" Kitty asked. "I worked at our marriage, and I did a damn good job as far as I'm concerned. I also reached out for a taste of life on my own. I found it, but I didn't let it interfere with my marriage. It gave me some ideas to strengthen my marriage, to make it better for both of us."

Harold looked troubled. "But you..."

"I'm proud of what I've done! It's not my fault your male ego can't handle it, that you have to pack your bag and go looking for your idea of a perfect mate. Go on, look, if you find something better, go for it! I won't try to stop."

"You're not being fair, Kitty!"

She looked at him and smiled. "Tell that bullshit to Sarah!"

"Kitty, I..."

"Go away, Harold! Just go way. When you decide what you want to do, give me a call."

He continued staring at her body glistening in the water, until certain she had said all she wanted to say. Then he turned and went back to Sarah.

But not before picking up his orange tie.

CHAPTER NINE

James didn't mind when Harold's secretary called to say his services would no longer be needed. He had more than enough clients to enable him to work outside, which he loved, and make enough to support his simple life style.

Actually, he would have dropped Harold from his list of clients if Harold hadn't dropped him first. He didn't like the thought of a jealous husband as a client.

He didn't call Kitty, much as he would have liked to, and when she called him, he laid his cards on the table, face up.

"I can't come there, and you can't come here," he said. "I don't need private investigators watching my house and I don't want to be in your house when your husband comes to his senses and comes home to talk reunion."

"What makes you so sure he'll want a reunion?" Kitty asked.

James laughed. "Because I know from a lot of experience that he's not about to find anybody who gives head like you do, or does a hell of a lot of other things as well as you do."

"Forget about Harold. What about us?"

James paused. "There's one possibility. I'm going to a party tonight, on East Shea."

"Pretty swanky part of town for you, isn't it?"

"I have friends in all parts of town, Kitty."

"I know."

"If you're interested, I can leave your name at the door as a last-minute guest. You should enjoy it, though it's nothing like the parties I have here."

"Does that mean people wear clothes?"

"The best fashions. Though all of them don't keep them on all the time."

"Are you going to be with anybody special?"

"Yes. But that shouldn't stop you. You'll have a chance to meet a lot of new people, some of them interesting."

"Like who?"

"Tim Bladine will be there."

"The Planning Commissioner?"

"Right now he's on the Planning Commission. He's being talked about as a candidate for Mayor."

"Won't he be with his wife?"

"Divorced."

"Won't I even see you," she asked. "Probably not. But this is temporary, Kitty. Harold will pull his investigator off in a few days and things will be back to normal. We'll meet at my place soon."

"I'll hold you to that, James."

"And I'll hold something to you," he laughed. "Something warm and hard and [missing text]."

"Very tasty!" Kitty added with a chuckle. The party on Shea was in a large home. Kitty took a cab so she wouldn't have to be bothered with parking.

She walked into a living room that seemed as large as a football field, hoping to spot James, but not surprised that he was nowhere in sight. If she knew James, he was off in one of the back bedrooms.

"You must be Kitty," said a neatly dressed young man with dark eyes and a wide, confident smile. "I've heard a great deal about you."

"Really? And who are you?"

The young man seemed taken aback by the question, as if he wasn't used to meeting people who didn't know him. But his confident smile bounced quickly back as he introduced himself.

"Forgive me," he said. "I'm Tim Bladine."

"Oh?" Kitty said quickly. "The pictures I've seen of you in the paper make you look older."

From that moment on Tim Bladine was putty in her hands. Tim Bladine was a politician. Politicians didn't just love flattery, they fed on it. And they rarely saw through it.

Actually, Kitty had never bothered to look at Tim's picture in the paper, but he did look younger than she expected. His tan wasn't as dark as hers, but he obviously spent time around a swimming pool, or perhaps on the golf course.

"Are you involved in politics?" he asked.

"First, let's ace if I might not become interested in politicians. Point one out to me."

Tim grinned. "Point your finger in any direction and you'll point to somebody running for office, hoping to run for office, or busy promoting somebody who can help them if they get in office." Kitty looked around, her eyes flickering with interest. "Who's that, the one in a sport coat. He almost looks out of place."

"Quite the contrary," Tim replied. "That's Walter Tanning. He's a member of the City Council."

"And the one at the fireplace?" Kitty asked. "The one with the attractive woman in white standing with her back to him."

"That's Bud Owens," Tim replied with a frown. "You wouldn't be interested in him."

"Really? Why not?"

"You haven't heard of Bud?"

"I'm certain I've never heard of Bud Owens," she said. "Tell me about him."

"He's the newly appointed Director of the Planning Commission. He maneuvered my ouster and got the job for himself."

"I see why you didn't want to talk about him."

"There are other reasons. The attractive woman in white with him is my ex-wife."

"Sticky! Are you bitter?"

"I'm not. She can be, and she can be vicious if she wants to be."

"Why are they here?"

"To embarrass me I'm afraid. There are certain people here, powerful people, who are thinking of backing me in my race for Mayor. If Bud can make me look bad, my chances will go down the drain."

"How could he make you look bad?"

"That's what I was trying to figure out when you walked in."

He looked Kitty over once again, his dark eyes glistening.

"Fortunately you gave me something better to think about."

"Your ex seems to be ignoring him, or at least pretending to ignore him."

"That's a female tactic Doris uses when she's not getting what she wants. She can give a man the cold shoulder for weeks on end when she gets in one of her bitchy moods."

"What do you figure she wants?"

"Marriage. Doris doesn't know the first thing about love and loyalty, but she's an expert on the power that come with success, particularly political success."

"Sounds like a lovely person."

"If you like vipers."

Kitty eyed Bud Owens carefully. He wasn't a particularly handsome man, too heavy in the gut and his hair looked funny. It was thin and he combed it in all directions to hide the bald spots, which couldn't be done.

"He looks like a one-time ladies man," she observed.

"Re thinks he still is," Tim replied.

"What if his plan to embarrass you backfired?" she asked.

"His loss would be my gain, but I don't play the game the way he and Doris play it. I put my credentials on the line, then go for the things I want."

"And you want to be Mayor?"

Tim nodded. "In the worst way. But if you quote rue, I'll deny it."

Kitty kept eyeing Bud Owens. "Your objective then should be to embarrass Mr. Owens, before he figures out a way to humiliate you."

"Except I don't play the game that way," Tim said.

Kitty grinned at him playfully.

"I do," she said, her eyes sparkling with a challenge.

Tim looked puzzled. "I don't understand."

"I've got an idea," Kitty said. "See that doorway to the patio?"

She nodded toward a small, darkened glass door leading to an unlighted corner of the patio.

"I think I'll invite Mr. Owens to walk through that door, to talk."

"Over Doris' dead body!"

Kitty grinned. "You're making the challenge even more interesting. Give me five minutes out there with Mr. Owens, then bring Doris and join us."

Before Tim could protest or respond, Kitty ambled to the fireplace, her eyes glittering excitedly, her face glowing.

"Mr. Owens?" she said, nudging herself between Bud Owens and the man he was talking to.

Kitty's voice was so eager, so tilled with interest, Doris momentarily forgot she was giving her boyfriend the cold shoulder and turned to look at Kitty. She immediately frowned.

"I just wanted to meet you, Mr. Owens!" Kitty beamed, her eyes dancing as Bud Owens looked interested. "And to congratulate you on being named Director of the Planning Commission."

"Thank you Miss Si..."

"Just call me Kitty! Please!"

"Kitty? Yes, of course. Thank you, Kitty."

Bud couldn't see the daggers pouring from the eyes of his girlfriend who had cut him off four days ago and was still not speaking to him. Kitty was standing in a perfect position to see and feel Doris' growing anger, but she pretended not to notice. Her eyes never left a leering Bud Owens.

It had been almost a week since he'd fucked a woman, even touched one! Kitty was so close he wondered if he couldn't reach her lovely little nose with the tip of his tongue.

"Can I get you something to drink?" be offered. "How nice of you to offer! I don't drink liquor, but I'd love a glass of white wine -- just a trifle sweet, and chilled."

"I know just the brand?" Bud Owens smiled. "I'll be right back."

Doris lost no time attacking. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Kitty. Just little ole Kitty. Oh, Mrs. Owens, you must be awfully proud of your husband!"

"He's not my husband -- yet. What I want to know is..."

Kitty leaned close, whispering discreetly. "Your eyes. They're drooling mascara down your face."

Doris immediately held her hand to her face. "I'll talk to you later!" she snapped, and rushed to find a bathroom.

"Here you are little lady!" Bud Owens beamed, returning with two glasses of wine.

Kitty immediately spilled her glass down the front of his pants. "Oh heavens! Look what I've done!"

She grabbed a towel from a passing waiter and started to wipe at the moist spot on his fly.

"No, please!" Owens protested, even mote embarrassed. "It's all right, really."

"I feel horrible!" Kitty said, looking like she would break into tears. "Here, come here," she said, nudging him toward the patio door. "I've got to get it off before it stains your pants."

Once outside, in the dark, Kitty pushed him against the wall and began dabbing at the wine on his fly.

"I know how you must feel," she said, "but I can't let it stain your pants. Nobody will see us here."

She brushed with her hand, then the towel, then her hand until she began to feel a bulge.

"I think it soaked through," she said. "Here, let me see."

She zipped down his fly and reached inside. "Don't be bashful," she said softly. "After all, we aren't innocent children."

His cock sprang free, protruding into her groping hand.

"Ohhh look!" Kitty squealed. "Look what came out to meet me!"

She took his cock in her hand and began pulling the foreskin over the cock-head.

"Harold, he loves it when I do this. Do you like it, Bud?"

"Eh, yes, but..."

He looked quickly around to see if anybody was watching. It was dark and the nearest people were around a table near the pool, totally occupied with their own conversation.

Kitty held the towel over her hand. "There, it's like being in a tent, isn't it?"

She continued massaging his cock, feeling his prick grow hard in her soft fingers.

"It feels good enough to eat!" She giggled. "Really?"

"Harold loves for me to eat his cock." She continued fondling his cock, feeling it begin to throb.

Bud Owens looked nervously around again. Seeing nobody paying them any attention, he looked back at Kitty. "Would you, would you take my cock in your lovely lips, here?"

"Oh, Mr. Owens, I'd love to! It's getting so big and -- whoops! Now look!"

His hot come spurted over her fingers, which she quickly wiped down, the front of his pants, then grabbed his cock to milk it more.

Suddenly an overhead light snapped on, bathing them in a bright light.

Doris screamed, drawing crowds from inside the house to see if somebody were dying, or drowning. Couples talking around the pool suddenly stopped, and looked.

Bud Owens grabbed his semi-hard cock and tried to stick it back in his pants, but the zipper was stuck.

"Mr. Owens!" Kitty squealed, stepping back and staring down at his well-lit cock hanging loose for the world to examine.

A streak of fresh white come glistened down the front of his pants.

"What have you been doing to yourself?" Kitty squealed, looking with fear as Bud struggled vainly to hide his cock inside a half-opened fly that wouldn't offer the shelter he craved.

Eyes roamed in from all directions, staring. "You perverted son-of-a-bitch!" Doris screamed. The entire party suddenly became so quiet a single fly droning over a piece of cake sounded like a jet plane.

Bud Owens rushed to a restroom. Doris rushed to the bar to bide her red and awry face in a corner with a triple scotch.

Kitty went to the front door and asked for a cab, pretending to be almost in tears.

"The poor thing," whispered several guests as they excused themselves from the party curly. "Who would ever have guessed Bud Owens would do a thing like that?"

"She's alone, leaving in a cab," said one. "Somebody should at least see that she gets home all right."

"I'll volunteer," Tim Bladine said, taking Kitty by the arm just as she burst into tears. He led her to his waiting auto.

Kitty didn't stop crying until they were well any from the party, then she leaned back in Tim's new Cadillac, her eyes bright and cheerful.

"That was fun!" she exclaimed happily. "Yea put on a good show," he whispered. "Thank you. Blowing him would have gotten a bigger rise out of Doris, but..."

"Bud Owens just dug his political grave." Tim smiled.

Kitty laughed. "You man he just got jerked off into his political grave."

Tim laughed. "I stand corrected. Well, you've gotten my race of Mayor off to an excellent start. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Kitty took his forefinger in her hand and ran it under her and along the crease of her cunt-slit. "I thought you'd never ask."

CHAPTER TEN

Tim gave her instant pleasure with his experienced finger as he drove toward his house.

He parked in the two-car garage and waited while the automatic door closed, throwing them into total darkness. Within seconds he had her pants in his hand and his head between her legs, his tongue lapping hungrily at her pussy, completing the job his finger had started.

"If this is out of gratitude, I accept," Kitty said, leaning back and enjoying it, running her fingers in his hair, pulling his face snugly into her wet, soft cunt.

Within a few feverish minutes she was gushing with wild orgasm, her legs spread wide, her hands clutching his head to her, her hips throwing her pussy to meet his exciting, highly educated tongue.

The instant she reached orgasm, he kissed her lips, his tongue still moving, probing, lapping with intense hunger.

"You get my vote," she whispered breathlessly. "That's just a beginning," he replied, his body tense, eager to go on to new and better things.

His water bed was round, with a giant TV set mounted on one wall and speakers from his complex music system looking down from all four corners of the room.

Tim Bladine had a taste for the finer things in life, and he indulged his tastes, privately.

He poured two glasses of wine from the wet bar and turned to hand Kitty one. To his surprise, she was on her knees, on the soft carpet, pulling down his pants and shorts in one swift tug.

"Go ahead, enjoy your wine," she said, taking his soft cock in her hand. "I'm hungry for something else right now."

"Right here? Right now?" he asked, standing frozen with a drink in each hand.

"Right here, right now," Kitty replied, taking all of his cock in her mouth in one gulp.

He leaned back against the bar and took a long swallow of wine, its sparkling fresh taste heightened by the sparkle he felt from her mouth wrapped around his growing cock. She had only to touch his balls and his cock sprang fully alive.

She felt his prick begin to throb with anxiety and pulled her head back.

"Not yet," she murmured, looking at the head of his cock as she would a baby. "Not until Mommy gets to taste it some more."

She licked the length of it, her tongue going around his balls, then between his legs. His knees began to buckle.

"Not yet," she mumbled again, holding the tip of his cock against the tip of her nose.

"It's been so long," Tim whispered excitedly. She opened her mouth and devoured all of his cock, just as Tim's cock shivered and exploded, sending a hot stream of come to the back of her throat, filling her mouth, drooling out each corner of her mouth.

She kept sucking, gently, until his prick went limp, then he slid down the wet bar and sat on the carpet beside her.

"You're good," he said. "You're really good." Kitty grinned. "You ain't seen nothing yet!" They undressed and went to the jacuzzi with their wine, looking up at the stars, listening to soft music that filled the entire house.

"You don't mind getting your hair wet?" he asked.

"Why should I mind that? You expecting company?"

"Some women do. All they think about is their appearance."

Kitty laughed. "Appearance is important only when it makes you feel good inside." She reached in the water and cradled his soft cock in her hand. "I've got something else that makes me feel good inside. Really good!"

He kissed her, feeling wildly, wonderfully free. Her tongue rushed to meet his.

"This is wonderful," he said. "You, the night, being here, like this."

"Didn't you make out in the jacuzzi with Doris?" she asked.

"She was afraid she'd get her hair wet. Even in bed she often remained perfectly still to keep from messing up her hair."

"How'd you get married to somebody like that?" Tim chuckled. "I didn't exactly marry her. She married me. She set her sights on me and went for it."

"But she..."

"She was great when she wanted me. Hell, there was nothing she wouldn't do, or let me do to her. It wasn't until after we were married that the real Doris began to emerge."

Kitty thought of Sarah Bennit and Harold. They were probably enjoying something like this right now, she thought. Then she smiled. It wouldn't dawn on Harold until later that it was all a fake. But she didn't want to think about Harold, not now.

"Where did you meet James?" she asked, unable to see anything the two men might have in common.

"We went to college together."

"College? James went to college?"

"He graduated from law school with honors. He just didn't like practicing law. Preferred working outdoors, living free. I'm not sure he didn't make the right choice."

"He never told me he was a lawyer," Kitty said. "Don't tell him I told you. He's not too proud of it."

"Then he must know Doris," Kitty said.

"He introduced me to Doris. After James became convinced I was going to make a career of politics, he said she would be just right for me. And she was, as far as politics was concerned. She's a real pro."

"And then she met a politician she thought offered her a better future," Kitty said.

"You got it."

Kitty laughed. "I think she used poor political judgement."

"Only when she tangled with you." Tim smiled. "Actually, Doris knows the political world better than anybody I know. She can dish it out, get what she wants, get even with enemies. That's one thing that bothers me about tonight. Doris always gets even. I'm afraid she'll look for a way to get even with me for what you did to her and Bud."

"How can she get even with you now?"

"I don't know, but if know Doris, she'll find a way."

"You worry too much." Kitty smiled. "Let's go to the water bed and think of other things."

It was Tim's turn to laugh. "Is there no end to your heat?"

He gave it to her as she wanted it, slow at first, building up tempo as her breathing became more deep, more desperate. She wrapped her logs around him, pulling his cock in to the hilt, refusing to let go as she ground her body into his, thrilling to the feel of his hard cock trapped inside her hot pussy.

He grabbed each cheek of her ass and tugged, patted, poked his finger between ass-cheeks, then around to the wet lips of her cunt.

He propped her up dog-fashion, ramming her face into a pillow and plunged his cock in deep. Soon her cries for more wakened.

He came one last time, then fell on his back, completely spent. The music continued. The gurgle of the water bed subsided.

And then the phone rang.

Tim reached for it and listened, saying nothing.

Even in the dim light Kitty could see the deep worry creases on his face after he hung up.

"It was Doris," he said. "She says I'm not to see my children again."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Harold hadn't always been a dynamic, hard driving business tycoon.

It was Kitty who catapulted him into the leadership role he deserved.

She did it after getting tired of listening to his whimpering complaints about being overworked then overlooked for promotions and salary increases. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life caressing him as she would a child, holding a warm hard nipple next to his lips and inviting him to suckle.

"There, there," she would say, softly, in a songlike voice.

Then she would fondle him until his limp cock stood proud. Sometime he took it from there but Kitty frequently guided his cock into her hot pussy.

"What a man!" she would exclaim, either during a real climax or during a faked climax. Harold never knew the difference.

Then she would fondle his cock again and lick his withered prick-staff until it began to rise again. She would exclaim, as if he'd worked some kind of masculine miracle.

She would hold his erect cock and climb on top, doing the job herself, all the while whispering the inspiring endearments of the totally satisfied to her well-performing mate.

As soon as he came, she would kiss his lips in gratitude, cleanse his body with tongue and towel, then lie beside him as if totally satisfied, totally exhausted.

"You're too much, Harold!" she would say, urging his ego up. "Too much!"

Then she would listen patiently as he would, once again, go over his list of complaints against a greedy company that wanted profits only for itself.

"You're too good for them, Harold," she would say. "One day you'll have a chance to prove it."

"How? When?" he would ask. Finally after spending weeks pampering his ego, building his confidence, listening to his self-pity, all the while catering to his every sexual fantasy, she told him -- giving him the shove he needed to gain independence.

"[Missing text] own business, Harold," she advised. "Start your him. You can do it! You can do anything!"

Harold didn't believe he could do it, but he believed in Kitty. If she said he could do it, he gradually became convinced he actually could do it.

And he did.

Now, after five straight years of building his business higher and higher, he had gotten the reputation in the business world of a dynamic leader who could speak the language of the businessman and produce results. He was independent, his own man.

But was he?

When he returned home to see Kitty, after two weeks with Sarah Bennit, he looked more beat, more filled with self-doubt, than Kitty had ever seen him.

"What is it?" she asked, serving him a glass of wine as if he were a guest in the house.

"I just needed to get away for an hour or so," he said.

"Away front what?"

"The office, the constant prodding..."

"Drink your wine and relax," she said. "Everything will work out."

It was the middle of the afternoon. Kitty wondered if he had purposely avoided visiting her at night, or if Sarah Bennit had forbidden his visiting her at night.

"I'm not so sure," Harold said sadly. "I'm not at all sure. Business is off, way off, for the first time in five years."

"It's just a slump. Things will turn around," Kitty said, still not sure she wanted to hear his sad story.

She went to the bedroom and changed into the only one-piece swimming suit she had. She needed to get in the water, without being provocative. From Harold's droopy eyes and turned-down mouth, she figured he hadn't been pampered in bed for quite a while. She didn't want to arouse him now.

He followed her to the pool, sitting in a deck-chair with a fresh glass of wine, and watched her glide gracefully across the water.

"It's even worse than I've told you," he said, after Kitty got out and began drying herself. "There's a chance I'll lose the business."

Kitty decided she didn't want to hear it.

"I've got to get out of this wet suit," she said, heading for the bedroom.

Harold followed her. She started to remind him that they were no longer living as man and wife and ask him to wait in the living room. But it seemed like a silky gesture. He was low enough already. No sense kicking him.

She skinned out of her suit as he sat on the edge of the bed admiring her body. In spite of her reluctance to listen to his sad story, or even to continue their conversation, Kitty was flattered by his attention to her physical charms. She wondered if he admired Sarah's body that much.

She took her time selecting the blouse and shorts she would put on, feeling his eyes crawl over her tanned flesh.

"No white marks," he said, smiling for the first time. "I see you still sunbathe in the raw."

"When there aren't guests," she replied, gently reminding him of his status.

His smile vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the long face of the tormented.

"We've got one chance to make out," he said, eyes lowered.

She laid out blouse and shorts and went for clean panties and a bra, determined to get dressed and get him out. He belonged to Sarah now. She could have him.

"The city is about to let contracts for a series of major public works projects," Harold continued. "Not just millions, but hundreds of millions of dollars. If we play our cards right, we might be able to get financial consulting contracts for a chunk of it."

Kitty froze with a fresh pair of panties in her hand. She turned, looking as if she couldn't believe what she'd heard.

"You're talking politics," she said pointedly.

"I know, but..."

"What the hell do you know about politics," Harold said.

"I know it's a long shot, but..."

Kitty looked determined, her legs spread, her hands on her shapely hips, the panda dangling from a finger. "You're a businessman, Harold. You know how to talk to business people. You don't know the first thing about politics!"

"We've been approached by one of the candidates for Mayor -- asked to make a campaign contribution. Our reserves are still strong. It could give us a decided edge, if our man wins."

"You gotta be kidding, Harold! It's not that simple any more!"

"Sarah said..."

He stopped suddenly, bowed his head in his hands and looked like he was about to cry.

Oh shit! Kitty thought, remembering the early days, when he actually did skin their bedroom and cry -- until she took him in her arms and nursed him back to life with her warm tits and wet pussy.

No more. Let Sarah lick his cock just to prove to him that it would still function. Let Sarah listen to his silent fears, his deep-seated insecurities. Let Sarah suck his cock, then crawl on top of it and later thank him for giving her such total satisfaction.

"It's the only chance we've got, Kitty," Harold said weakly. "If we don't get some contracts with the city, we'll be out of business in a year!"

Kitty cringed. He was a businessman, not a politician. He'd sink like a chunk of lead if he tried to swim in political waters. She couldn't just stand idly by and let him do that.

She sat on the bed beside him, dropping her panties on the floor.

"You've lost some weight," she said, rubbing his thigh, than his stomach.

"I'm not sleeping well Kitty or eating well, or..."

She grinned. "There's some things you still do well."

He shook his head, eyes down, "Not very often," he confessed.

"Let's see," Kitty said, unbuttoning his shirt. "Just for old-time's sake."

He sat like a mental patient as she undressed him, then pushed him back on the bed. Even his lips were slow to respond to her kiss. It was the touch of her tongue that urged him to part his lips and accept what she offered.

Slowly, very slowly, he began to extend his tongue to meet hers, to move slightly to the touch of her soft fingers on the insides of his thighs. When she touched his cock, then took ft in her warm hand, he was limp, totally lifeless.

She kissed his lips again, then his chest, her tongue making a moist line down his stomach to the edge of his pubic hairs.

"See?" she said as his cock began to come alive. "Some things never change, Harold."

She took the cock-head in her mouth, running her moist tongue around it, then down the cock-shaft. She took all of it, sucking gently until she felt his prick grow along the edge of her tongue.

"Some things just get better, Harold," she said, reverting to her old role of confidence builder, the woman behind the man the world thought was totally self-sufficient.

She licked his balls, sighing as if she loved it. In spite of everything that had happened between them, she did love it. The feel of a man's hairy balls against her tongue turned her on.

A lot of things turned her on now. Among them were knowing that the cock in her mouth, in her hand, was hard because of her, was yearning only for her, would explode with warm milk-like come just because of her. It gave her more than just a sense of power. It gave her a sense of physical satisfaction that she had never known as a wife who performed mostly out of a sense of duty.

She loved his cock, his balls, the smell of the man. The feel of his arms, his tongue against hers, his hands exploring her body, getting wet in her cunt. She loved the feel of his finger probing her asshole, as a child explores a mysterious cave.

She loved to roll on top of him, squatting over his erect prick, guiding it into her cunt. She loved moving up and down and watching the expression on his face go from wonder to wonderment, from desires deep satisfaction.

She loved the feel of his come squirting inside her pussy, running down her leg, the exquisite pleasure of throwing her head back and saying, truthfully this time, "I'm coming, Harold! Don't stop yet! I'm-I'm coming!"

This time Harold got the towel and wiped the insides of her thighs, her pussy. He stared at his handiwork, then bent-over and kissed her still-wet pussy, easing his tongue inside.

This time it was Harold who said, "I've never had it so good. Kitty. Never!"

"You'll never make in politics, Harold," she said flatly. "It's not your style."

She was getting through to him, just as she did in the old days. She could feel it.

"You're right," he finally said. "I don't know how I got talked into trying the political game in the first place. It'll mean sinking a bundle of money in some candidate I don't even know, then hoping for the best."

Kitty felt a sense of satisfaction in having made her point.

"I feel good," he said, smiling easily. "I feel good for the first time in days! I must have been a fool to seriously consider backing Rone Curry."

"Who's Rone Curry?" Kitty asked.

"The politician I was talking about, running for Mayor. I know nothing about politics. Nothing! Why in hell I even considered getting involved I'll never know."

"I'm glad you've come to your senses," Kitty said.

"I'm glad you brought me to my senses," Harold replied.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Kitty turned away. She didn't want to hear any more, not yet. Nothing was decided between them, not yet. She didn't want to hear any more until they had some kind of an understanding on where they stood with each other.

She didn't want to talk about that either, not yet. There were too many other things she wanted to do first.

She felt a sense of relief when the phone rang, stopping Harold before he could bring up a subject she didn't want to face right then.

"May I speak to Harold please," came the crisp, efficient voice of Sarah Bennit. It had a cold, authoritative tone that was new.

Kitty handed the phone to Harold without replying.

"Oh, hello," he said, without enthusiasm. "Some personal matters. It shouldn't take long." He listened a long time. Then he hung up.

"I'm needed at the office," he said, rolling out of bed.

Kitty shrugged as he waked out the door.

She'd done all slit could do. If he wanted to save his business, the rest was up to him.

Then she called James to find out where the action would be that night.

CHAPTER TWELVE

A week later Tim called, sounding as depressed as a skid-row bum on death row, even lower than Harold had sounded, if that was possible.

"Did your powerful friends back out?" she asked. "No. They've pledged their support, thanks to your little trick with Bud Owens and Doris. But..."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Doris, of course. She's a little pissed with Bud -- letting you embarrass both of them like you did."

"Pissed with Bud?" Kitty asked. "Just what can she do to him?"

"Drop him, flat, which she's done."

Kitty chuckled. "She'll find somebody else."

There was a certain respect in Tim's voice when he replied. "You can count on that -- just like you can count on his being a winner, whoever it turns out to be. But I'm not calling to talk about Doris, or Bud Owens. I've got problems of my own."

"I thought you'd have it made if you got the support you wanted."

"Politics is never that cut and dry, my dear. Is it all right if I come over tonight? I need to talk." Kitty began to feel like a mother hen with a brood of roosters, all needing her to pamper them. But she'd gone this far with Tim. She couldn't think of a good reason to stop now.

"We'll barbecue a chicken," she said.

When he arrived, they made small-talk over wine as they barbecued the chicken on the patio grill. Later, as they ate by candlelight, he never once mentioned the campaign problems he'd alluded to on the phone.

She had put on a stack of records she thought he would like, a mixture of classical and popular music. Then she wondered why she still felt compelled to always try to please a man. It was her house, her chicken, even her wine!

After dinner, she slipped on her favorite country and western records and they sat on the patio with fresh red wine.

She wondered when he was going to bring up the subject that was bothering him.

An hour later, their glasses empty, he still hadn't mentioned it.

"How about a swim?" he suggested instead. "In the dark."

Kitty smiled, sensing he had more on his mind than just political problems.

"Fine," she said, going inside to click off the patio lights as well as the pool lights.

He was already in the water, nude, when she came out, also nude, to join him. They glided slowly, close to each other, until they were accustomed to the water. Then Tim led her to the shallow end and sat on a step with her in his lap.

"It's really nice here." He smiled.

"You said that."

"I mean here," he added, running his fingers along the slit between her legs.

"Thank you," she said, offering her soft lips to his experienced tongue.

Tim was a masterful lover, retaining control most of the time -- doing his thing, thought Kitty. She liked it that way, for a change.

Not that she didn't like being in complete control herself at times. It was satisfying to get a man's cock up, ready to explode with desire, then guide it into her cunt, and work it at the tempo that pleased her. But it was also nice to just lie back and let Tim take charge, responding with real desire, taking what he had to offer, and giving good measure in return. She enjoyed the touch of his lips, his tongue on her tits, the probing of his fingers between her legs, on her thighs, her stomach, inside the crease of her ass-cheeks. She enjoyed the taste of his inner ear when she probed it with her tongue, and looked forward to the taste of his cock rubbing her leg under water, hard and eager.

But there was something he wanted to taste first, which was fine with her. He was in command. She allowed him to carry her to the edge of the pool, sit her on the ledge, and spread her legs wide as he examined the pink of her pussy staring out through surrounding hedges of dark fur.

She thrilled to the touch of his tongue, his lips, the gentle nibbling of his teeth as her pussy got wet from the inside out, wet and sweet and eager for more of his tongue, then all of his tongue.

Her only effort to exert control was to ask, "Faster! Please, faster! Deeper! Deeper!"

When she started to climax, she threw her legs around his neck, pulling him close, keeping his rapid tongue in her cunt, clutching him until she felt as high as the stars, as free as the evening breeze -- as explosive as lightning. She came like thunder, falling back on the pavement, eyes closed, senses thrilled.

Then she felt his wonderful tongue lapping at the edges of her asshole, and she sighed contentedly, rolling her head from side to side, purring like a kitten. It was a different kind of climax, peaceful, continuous, completely satisfying.

"Tim?" she whispered dreamily.

"Yes?"

"Can I have your cock, your beautiful fucking machine?"

"Where?"

"Do I get a choice?"

"Try me," he replied.

He crawled out of the water as she rolled over, then she came up on her knees, her head down.

"It was your tongue," she said, panting heavily. "It made my asshole snap for more!"

"Then it shall have more!" Tim smiled, sticking his cock-head into the cleavage of her ass-cheeks, then easing it through a tight entrance. Once inside, he lunged slightly, pausing as she screamed. Then easing his cock farther in.

Kitty clawed at the hard pavement, holding herself steady as his thrusts became harder, penetrated deeper. When his balls smacked her ass-cheeks, when his cock was in as far as it could go, she felt a sense of relief.

She couldn't have taken more. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect!

He pushed fingers into her wet, open cunt while easing his cock in and out of her tightly gripping ass. Faster, then faster still.

Kitty felt her knees rub raw on the hard pavement, adding a sting of pain to the searing sensation of pleasure.

"Come in me," she said. "Come deep in me! I want to feel it inside me! All of it!"

Heir hands clawed the pavement, her face rubbed into it as Tim pounded at her asshole, breathing like a bull in heat.

It was hot. When he came it felt hot, like a high-pressure hose on the hot-water faucet. It felt hot and smooth. She felt as if her insides were being sprayed with a gush of hot oil, lubricating oil.

He came and he kept coming. She felt as if she were full of him, overflowing with him.

Her body fell flat on the pavement. His come went on her back, on both cheeks of her ass. He fell on top of her, completely spent. Then he rolled into the water, pulling her in behind him.

"You're enough to make a man forget what he came for," Tim smiled.

"And what was that?" Kitty asked.

"To talk, just to talk."

Once again she felt like a mother hen, about to hear another hard-fuck story. But she didn't mind. Tim had earned it. He could talk about any damn thing he pleased!

She kissed his lips. "Talk then."

"It doesn't seem that important any more," he replied, returning her kiss, feeling himself getting aroused again.

"It's the campaign, isn't it?" she said.

"Rone Curry has decided to run," Tim replied, as if announcing dooms day.

"Who's Rone Curry?"

"One of the sharpest political fund raisers in the business. With his business contacts, he can raise twice as much money as I can."

Kitty thought she had heard the name Rone Curry before, but she couldn't remember where. She shrugged.

She regretted asking Tim to talk. Reaching down in the water, between his legs, she felt something she wanted more than just conversation.

"Nobody can beat you." She smiled, squeezing gently. His cock began to rise in her hand.

"You make my political problems seem miles away."

Tim smiled, kissing her again, gripping a handful of smooth ass-flesh and pulling her close against him.

She slipped his cock between her legs and closed her thighs around it. "There's something more urgent that needs your attention now."

Kitty put her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her hairy pussy into his rock-like cock.

"First things first." Tim smiled, sliding the head of his eager cock past the slippery lips of her cunt. Before he could ease his cock farther in, Kitty gripped him with her legs, puffing it in deep and fast.

She threw her head back in a short happy gasp. He held her by the waist, her back floating on the surface of the water, pulling her slick pussy back and forth on his cock-staff.

She let him do it all as she floated on the water, feeling his cock slam deep inside, feeling her cunt heat the water as it held him, as her legs clasped his body to hers. She felt herself sailing on a smooth sea, the fire that had erupted in her asshole smothered, now the fire that raged in her cunt getting the same wonderful hosing.

His lips and tongue covered a nipple that became immediately hard. His cock never stopped, gliding in deep and hard, then easing back before making another smooth plunge, sending her sensuous spirits soaring.

"I want to eat it!" she exclaimed happily. "I want a mouth full of it! It's so wonderful! Don't take it out! Not yet! I'm coming Tim! I'm coming!"

He rammed his cock in her harder, faster, causing words to freeze in her mouth, her eyes to look glazed. His cock grew as he pounded it in her, grew and began to throb against the walls of her oiled pussy.

"I'm there!" Kitty screamed, her teeth gritted in ecstasy. "I'm there! Don't stop now! Don't..."

Again her words froze in an orgasm of pleasure. As she felt his hot stream pouring into her, she chewed the lobe of his car and ground into him, her pussy sucking his streaming cock.

"I've got to taste your cock," she said. "I've got to feel its hardness in my mouth, with my tongue."

She pound her cunt into him until the hot stream slowly died, until the wonderful cock softened inside her and became still.

"I still want to eat your prick," she whispered. They literally crawled out of the pool and fell exhausted on a pair of thick beach towels, feeling warm desert air caress their satisfied bodies, looking up at bright stars.

"They're so far away," Kitty whispered, smiling at the stars.

"Like my political problems?" Tim said.

"In the morning they'li be gone," Kitty added. "The stars, yes. My political problems with Rone Curry, no. They'll just be beginning?"

Kitty suddenly remembered where she'd heard the name Rone Curry before. She thought of Harold, and his reluctant temptation to back the man with a big campaign contribution.

"Will money make all the difference in the election?" she asked.

"What else counts?" Kitty asked.

"The type of campaign Curry runs. He's a new face and with enough money for political ads they can make him look like Mr. Clean."

"But you can look the same way, can't you?" Tim frowned. "Not like Rone can, if he brings his family into the campaign, which he'll do. His wife of twenty years is attractive and articulate. They have two children that look like they've just returned from a 4-H camp."

"You have two children!"

"That's the problem, Kitty. Doris will refuse to let them be photographed or used in any way to help my campaign. As soon as Rone's people find out the position I'm in with Doris and the kids, they'll spread the rumors of a broken marriage, of a bluer split not only with my wife but my children. People's imagination will provide the gory details."

"Maybe Doris will change her mind," Kitty said. "No chance of that I'm afraid. She's got me by the balls and she isn't about to let go."

"Because of what I did to her and Bud?"

"That's all the reason Doris needs, I'm afraid." Kitty had tried to solve a problem for him, and she had! Now she felt responsible for a new problem. She began to wonder if politics wasn't a little too complex for her.

"Don't feel like it's your fault," Tim said.

"But I do."

It wasn't until long after he left and Kitty crawled into bed with a slight sense of unfinished desire that she remembered what it was that she'd wanted so desperately, and failed to get. They'd spent so much time discussing Tim's political problems that she'd never gotten around to feeling that most satisfying of cocks in her mouth.

She was beginning to hate politics.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

They all agreed to help except James, which surprised Kitty. Tim Bladine was his friend, and had been for a lot of years. She had expected James to leap at the idea.

"What's with you?" she asked him.

"It's a game with the others," he replied. "A fun night doing something they like, something different."

"So? Let them have their turn, and help Tim at the same time."

"It's not a fun thing with you, Kitty. You act like you're on a mission to save Tim's political career."

"What's wrong with that?" she asked. "Tim's a nice enough guy, isn't he?"

"Now he is. Wait until he makes Mayor -- and he just might make it with your help. He'll change then. I just don't want to see you get hurt, that's all."

"Cut out the bullshit, James!" Kitty shouted impatiently. "You're afraid I'll get involved with Tim and go back to living a straight life."

James chuckled cynically. "With Tim? That's the last of my worries."

"Then join the party!" Kitty smiled. "Stop being a cold ass."

"Yeah," Clyde said. "Marcia's willing to go along, and she don't even know the guy. What's your problem?"

"It'll be fun!" Marcia smiled. "And God knows I could use some help," she added, touching Clyde's enormous cock with a cool finger as if afraid it might stand up and come at her again.

They were all sprawled around James' living room, in spite of the fact that he had absolutely forbidden Kitty to visit him any more.

Big Edith was cradling shy and silent Ethel in her arms, full or protective affection for her little hellcat who always acted so tame and subdued, but was eager to try something else, just for a change of scenery.

"I can play my part, James." Ethel pinned. "You'll be proud of me!"

James knew he faced defeat and took it without further resistance. "All right!"

James picked up the phone and dialed. Doris answered, sounding tired and defeated, but sincerely pleased to hear his voice. It had been a long time since she'd seen James.

"What's the problem pet?" James asked, in his best seductive tone.

"These kids are driving me up a damn wall!" Doris snarled.

"Can't you train Bud Owens to baby-sit?"

"That asshole! I sent him flying!"

"Does that mean you're free now?"

"Until I find another political star to hitch this wagon to. Why, James? You got something in mind?"

"I just might, my little pet. I just might. Why don't you come by and meet some friends of mine. It'll give you a break."

"I guess I could call in a babysitter." James heard a pair of screaming voices in the background. It sounded like children fighting over the things children fought over.

"I'll be right there," said a relieved Doris.

"You're beautiful, James!" Kitty smiled, heading for the small bedroom. She closed the door, and lay on the bed with a book.

The others kept their places in the living room until Doris arrived, her clothes only half-neat, her hair disrupted by the fingers of grasping children.

"I'm just not cut out for full-time motherhood," she said, explaining her slovenly appearance.

The others, even more sloven, accepted her apology with smiles of understanding.

Shy little Ethel immediately crawled to Doris' feet and touched one of her toes protruding from open sandals.

"Such pretty feet," she said, bending low to caress them, examine them.

"What's with her?" Doris asked.

"She belongs to me." Big Edith smiled. "She likes feet, if they're shaped right."

"Feet?" Doris didn't understand.

"We all like something, honey." Big Edith smiled, looking at pointed nipples pushing cloth out in Doris' tight-fitting shirt.

Doris turned to James, the only familiar face in the room. "Who are these people?"

"Friends. Relax, Doris. They're just here to have a good time, the same as you."

Ethel touched her lips to Doris' feet, then licked her toes.

Big Edith laughed. "She's really gone bananas over your feet. It's almost like love at first sight."

Doris started to move her foot back, then changed her mind. "I guess she's harmless enough."

Ethel began sucking her big toe.

"Isn't that sweet," Marcia said. "I wish I could get excited over feet."

She reached into Clyde's lap and lifted up his large limp cock.

"I have to be stuck on things like this," Marcia said. "After a couple of days I'm so damn sore I can hardly get out of bed!"

Doris stared at Clyde's cock. "Is that for real?"

"Just grab yourself a handful," Marcia invited. "There's plenty to go around."

"Hold on!" James interrupted. "Doris is my friend. She's not ready for anything like that."

Doris couldn't take her eyes off the huge cock.

"Sit down, Doris," James said, getting up from his chair. "Since you're a special guest, I'll let you have the special chair, for old-time's sake."

Doris took the offered chair with a sense of relief, leaning back and resting for the first time that day. Ethel immediately scampered for her feet, carefully removing Doris' sandals and bathing her feet in cool water.

"That feels good." Doris smiled. "What'd you say your name was?"

"Ethel." The shy one smiled, bet eyes down. She poured wine on Doris' feet and began licking it off.

"You're a nice girl, Ethel."

"You look tired," James said.

"I feel exhausted." Doris replied, leaning back in the comfortable chair.

Marcia went to the bathroom for a pan of warm water, soap and a towel. "Let me pamper you a little, honey," she said. "I know how it feels to be tired, bone tired."

She opened Doris' shirt and began bathing her shoulders and tits, then her stomach. "Just relax. You deserve it."

Marcia touched her lips to Doris' belly button.

"Hell, that ain't no way to relax a woman," said Big Edith, pushing Marcia to one side and tugging at Doris' slacks and panties. She took the wet soap and worked up a lather in the dark patch between Doris' legs, then got a damp rag and wiped it away. Finally she toweled her down until the hair gleamed and was perfectly dry.

Ethel began sucking one toe after another, running her tongue between Doris' toes.

Big Edith leaned over and took a nipple in her large mouth, sucking gently until it was hard.

"That better now?" she asked.

"Much, much better," Doris replied, her breathing becoming heavy. "You are nice, very nice."

"Here, stretch out on the rug," Marcia said, putting a pillow under Doris' head as James and Clyde gently laid her on the floor.

"I've never had so much attention before." Doris smiled, somewhat confused, but totally pleased.

"Just like old times, eh, Doris?" James smiled, kissing her lips.

"I don't remember getting treatment this good!" Doris felt something moist and warm and very exciting slide between her legs. It was Big Edith, her tongue lapping at the pussy-hair she had cleaned so carefully, then around the moist edges of Doris' pussy. Finally it drove into the darkness, making Doris quiver with delight.

James kissed her lips again, running his tongue against hers.

"That's like old times," he whispered. He kissed her again, his fingers running around the edge of her lips.

Doris opened her mouth and licked at his finger, then took it in her mouth and sucked it.

She felt lips and moist tongues on each tit, and James began rubbing her neck and forehead. Ethel continued sucking her toes, all five at once.

Doris began to feel like she was floating on a sea of human organs and passions. She reined completely, then her eyes opened wide as Big Edith's tongue hit new places in her cunt, sending new delights through her system.

Both nipples became so hard from the tender attention to lips and moist tongues she thought they would explode.

Big Edith began licking her asshole, as a finger slid into her moist pussy.

Hands massaged everywhere: on her stomach, her tits, the cheeks of her ass, her sides, her face. Her entire body tingled with desire.

Doris opened her eyes as she started into a state of wild orgasm that went on and on, just as the tongues and touches went on and on. She climbed higher and higher into realms of physical pleasure she had never traversed before. She was in another world. She was in heaven!

She felt something warm and soft pressed against her lips. She opened her eyes and saw Clyde smiling down on her. Her mouth opened. The head of his huge cock slipped past her lips, touched her tongue, eased farther down her throat.

She sucked until she felt it grow hard in her mouth.

Two hands grabbed each of her legs, pulling them apart, pulling them gently at first, then spreading them until it hurt.

Clyde was on his knees between her spread legs, holding his cock with both hands, nudging it gently against the lips of her gaping pink pussy.

"Can you handle it?" he asked. "Yes!" she screamed. "I can take it! I can!"

"Are you sure?" Clyde asked softly. "Yes! Oh yes!"

James kissed her lips. Others kissed each tit. Little Ethel began licking between her thighs, as if oiling the way for Clyde's cock.

"Please!" Doris begged. "I've never been so ready in my life. I'll never have a chance like this again. Please! Please!"

Clyde slipped his cock in easy. Her pussy was so hot, so completely ready, it met no resistance. He slid his prick in deeper, then deeper still.

The walls of her pussy were greased and expanding, ready for anything, eager for anything. Clyde went in farther.

"It's wonderful, wonderful!" Doris screamed. "Don't stop now. I can take it I tell you. I must have it!"

Clyde gave her the full cock-shaft, fast and deep and hard. She gasped for air, her eyes clenched in erotic ecstasy, feeling hands and tongues everywhere, and his big cock where it counted most.

She came immediately, then immediately began climbing toward a bigger, longer climax. "I've never had it so good! I must have more!"

Clyde began easing his cock out, slowly, steadily. "I want my cock in your ass," he said.

"No!"

"It's where I want it," Clyde said, continuing to ease his massive cock out of her greased, ready, hot pussy.

"Not yet! Please, not yet!" Doris pleaded. "I've got to have it in my pussy first. Please!"

"I've got to have it in the ass," Clyde said. "My pussy first!" Doris said. "Then my ass. But please, don't take it out of my pussy! Not yet! Not now!"

Clyde stopped withdrawing his cock. "I got your word on that? First the pussy, then your ass?"

"Yes, anything. Anything! Just don't stop!"

"You sure about that, honey?" Big Edith asked. "We don't like to see promises to Clyde go unmet."

"I promise! You have my word, all of you! Just don't take it out yet! Please don't take that marvelous cock out of my cunt!"

"They all heard your promise, Doris," James whispered. "You're sure you don't want to take it back, while you can?"

"No! I promise! I promise!"

"You got yourself a deal, lady!" Clyde said, ramming his cock in deep, quick and complete.

Doris stiffened, screaming joy, clutching at bodies hanging over her, sticking her tongue into James' mouth.

"I, I -- it's so wonderful! So wonderful!" she screamed.

They held her legs as Clyde pulled back and rammed his cock home again, not pausing. The long greased prick shot into her like a telephone pole driven into a grease-lined hole.

Doris gagged and gasped and shuddered as she came and kept coming.

Clyde pulled his prick almost out, then lunged it in again, his balls smacking her body with a loud slap. It took the wind out of her. She turned white, then red as she gasped for air.

She tired to turn, but hands on all sides held her fiat, her legs spread wide. Clyde rammed his cock to her again, and then again.

Doris came until she couldn't come any more, couldn't breathe any more, couldn't hold her eyes open any more. Then she eased into the deepest, most peaceful sleep she had ever known.

When she woke up, exhilarated, delightfully exhausted, feeling light in body and mind, she was on her knees, bent over a footstool. Strong hands pinned her arms to the floor. Silent Ethel was straddling her back, riding her like she was a pony.

Clyde sat on the floor, holding his massive cock inches from her face.

"Give it a kiss for luck," he said.

"Luck?" Doris asked, confused.

"If we're lucky, it won't spilt your asshole," Clyde said.

Doris suddenly remembered the deal she'd made and tried to buck. Strong hands held her emotionless, powerless.

"You better go and kiss it," Clyde said. "Last time this thing split a woman's asshole she was on her side for a month, unable to walk, to sit, to..."

"You, you can't!" Doris screamed. "You can't!"

"You promised, honey," Big Edith said, rubbing large gob of Vaseline into Doris' ass, running her finger in deep.

"She's got a damned tight ass-hole," Big Edith said, worried.

"A promise is a promise," Clyde said. "You know how this thing likes assholes."

"I can hardly get two fingers up her ass," Big Edith said. "There's no way that ass will take what you got."

"A promise is a promise," Clyde repeated. "You all heard it."

"Jesus, Clyde!" James said. "Be reasonable!"

Clyde ignored him, turning instead to Big Edith. "Tell you what, Big Edith. You got a right big ass. You want to offer it as a substitute?"

Big Edith scoffed at the idea. "I got better plans for my ass than getting it spilt to hell and gone by that big thing!"

"Then stop pushing that Vaseline in her ass and get outa my way," Clyde replied, holding his massive cock in both hands, aiming it at Doris' greased asshole.

Kitty emerged from the bedroom carrying a sheaf of papers. "Hold on, Clyde," she said. "You owe me one, remember?"

Clyde looked surprised. "I owe you? For what?"

"For driving all the way to Flagstaff to cool that big machine down, after you'd worn out all your steady standbys! That's for what!"

Clyde paused, frowning. "You had the fuck of your life!"

Kitty smiled. "SO did you, Clyde. So did you! Not many women can take what you've got to offer, hanging from that gadget you put in your bedroom. If you don't figure you owe me, don't ever count on my getting into those straps again. Ever! I don't have to drive all the way to Flagstaff and strap myself in, just to get a good fuck! There's too many hard cocks available in Phoenix."

"All right, I owe you," Clyde conceded. "Whata ya want?"

Kitty looked at Doris. "That's up to her," she said, handing Doris the papers she was carrying, and a ballpoint pen. "Sign them, Doris, and your asshole is saved."

Doris looked relieved, then suspicious. "Sign what?"

"You're granting Tim legal custody of your two kids until the campaign is over."

"Like hell!" Doris screamed.

Kitty looked at a smiling Clyde. "All right, Clyde," she said. "Her asshole belongs to you."

Clyde put the head of his cock against the small tight opening of Doris' asshole.

"It might hurt a little at first," he said. "But after that..."

Doris looked panic stricken. "No! You'll kill me with that big thing!"

Clyde nudged the cock-head into the small opening.

Doris almost fainted, then burst into tears. Clyde applied a slight nudge, just enough to send pain through her entire body.

"All right!" Doris shouted. "All right! Give me the damn pen! I'll sign. I'll sign any damn thing!"

She didn't notice the entire living room fill with amused smiles as she hastily signed the papers and handed them to Kitty.

Doris looked at Clyde. "My pussy handled it all right!"

"You have a right sweet pussy," Clyde replied. Doris looked at his cock hanging limply. "I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't actually felt it."

"If you want another go at it some time, Kitty knows how to reach me," Clyde said.

Doris looked at Kitty with hard eyes, then at the papers Kitty had forced her to sign.

"I hope you cut a sweet deal for this little caper," she said bitterly.

Within an hour, Kitty had the papers sent to Tim by special messenger.

A few days later she received a dozen roses with a card that said: Thanks. It wasn't even signed.

Kitty began to wonder if James hadn't been right about his old college friend. The very least he could have done was call.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

She didn't plan it that way, but Kitty spent the next week totally nude, which was fine, but also totally alone, which wasn't.

For one full week the phone rang only twice, once from a bond salesman, the other from a sweet talking lady doing a phone survey on grocery shopping habits.

She remained nude the entire week. Nude and bored.

It did give her time to think, which she welcomed. She thought about working out a reconciliation with Harold, with mixed feelings about any reasonable agreement they might make.

On the sixth night she called James, catching him just as he was leaving.

"I've been working my ass off all week," he said. "Clyde and I are going to L.A. for a few days to visit Marcia."

"And a few of Marcia's friends," Kitty chuckled.

"Of course! I'll call you when I get back."

"Have fun," Kitty said, visualizing James with a harem of budding starlets on the make. She wasn't jealous. Just envious.

She needed a man damn it! Her vibrator just wasn't cutting it!

On the seventh day she relented and called Harold, feeling desperate.

"I just wondered how your business is going now," she said.

"Fine. Things are looking fine. Did you want something in particular, Kitty?" he asked coldly. "I'm pretty busy right now."

Her anger flared. "Look damn it!" she blurted out. "When you were down and called me. I invited you over!"

His voice changed from distant coldness to an amused tolerance, as if he were playing a game. "You're welcome to come over tonight," he said. "I'm free until ten."

"Until ten?"

"You know how politicians are, Kitty. They hold meetings at odd hours, usually in hotel rooms between speaking engagements."

"When did you start doing business with politicians?" she asked.

His voice again became cold and distant. "It's not a subject I are to discuss on the phone."

"Couldn't you come here?" she asked, immediately regretting the pleading sound in her voice.

"Impossible!" he replied coldly. "You know where I live now if you want to see me."

"Fuck off, Harold!" she snapped, equally cold, then slammed down the receiver.

But anger only inflamed her problem. She immediately called Tim, who also sounded cold and distant.

"I'm sorry, Kitty," he said. "But I'm in the middle of completing last-minute plans to kick our campaign into high gear."

"And your kids?"

Tim laughed. "Doris is bringing them down tomorrow to film some TV spots!"

"I can't wait to see them on TV!" Kitty replied tartly, again slamming down the receiver.

Another damned asshole!

The blues didn't let up, and neither did her driving passion for some action. But there was no action to be had.

After an early dinner, she showered, put on a fresh new outfit, more conservative than usual, and headed for the apartment of Sarah Bennit, arriving precisely at seven.

She hardly recognized Harold. He was unshaven, his tie and coat tossed in a chair. A well-tapped bottle of scotch was on the wet bar, open. He was on he couch, a fresh drink in his hand.

"When did you give up wine?" Kitty asked, surprised to see him drinking hard stuff.

"I haven't given up anything." He grinned. "Just added a few extras. Care for a scotch?"

"No thanks. What about your business with a politician?"

"That's three hours away."

"Is it Rone Curry?"

Harold smiled. "Don't tell me you're keeping up with politics these days?"

"I'm a citizen! I vote you know!"

"Of course. Just make sure you vote for the right man my dear -- Rone Curry, the next Mayor of Phoenix!"

"So you decided to back him after all?"

"To the hilt! It's going to solve all my business problems, Kitty."

Kitty looked skeptical. "If he wins you mean." Harold looked at her as he would a child, like what could she possibly know about politics.

"Come here, Kitty," He smiled, patting the couch beside him. "Sit down. Relax. Sure you don't want a scotch?"

"Positive."

In spite of a growing heat that burned in her cunt, she took a chair opposite the couch, avoiding physical contact for the moment at least. Harold looked at her as if he knew the torment she felt, knew what she wanted. He smiled, as if that knowledge gave him an edge, and rubbed his crotch.

"Playing hard to get?" he said teasingly.

Kitty watched his hand rubbing his crotch, hating him for the power he had over her, having it and knowing he had it. But she refused to go to him.

"Tim Bladine's had a lot of experience, Harold. Once he starts his campaign the entire picture could change."

Harold plopped back on the couch, leaning back. "This is a conservative town, Kitty. The voters go for solid family men, men with good business backgrounds. The man's hardly made a living! And his family life is a disaster."

"How do you know that?" Kitty asked. "We have ways of finding out those things," Harold replied smugly. "His separation from his wife is public knowledge. After we spread the word that his kids won't even speak to him, the man won't stand a chance!"

"And after Rone Curry gets in office, you've got it made. Is that it?"

"You got it!" Harold grinned confidently. He sat up straight. "Now you toil sue something, Kitty. Why are you here?"

"I-I wanted to talk."

His eyes became hard. "Come here, Kitty, sit beside me."

"You're drunk."

"Not yet I'm not. It takes a few belts to endure a late-night meeting with a bunch of politicians." He zipped down his fly. "But you didn't come to talk politics, Kitty!"

"Then you tell me why I came," Kitty said.

"For this." Harold pulled out his cock, already semi-hard. "Don't deny it, Kitty. I know you."

"You used to know me!"

He reached for her hand and pulled her to the couch. Kitty eyed him with a mixture of desire and contempt, wondering how she ever let herself get into such a situation.

"We might be able to work something out," he said, touching her thigh, sending sparks flying to her damp pussy.

Still she resisted. "Like what Harold?" she asked, knowing his answer before he began.

He grinned, squeezing her soft flesh. "You like the house, the big car, money enough for clothes and..."

"Yes, I like those things," she interrupted, clasping his hand, but unwilling to push it away, unwilling and unable. His hand crawled slowly up her thigh until it rested on her moist panties. His fingers began searching around the elastic band.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked, trying not to show the fierce desire she felt for him, for any man at that moment.

"We stand a chance to make some big money after this election," he continued. "Big money!"

"We?" Kitty asked.

"Sarah and I. She set it all up, introduced me to Rone Curry, negotiated the deal. She's got one sharp head."

Even as he talked so glowingly of Sarah, his hand continued to explore her cunt, his fingers teasing the lips of her wet pussy.

"You two must be getting along rifle," Kitty said, wanting to push his hand away, but unable to give up the tingling sensation his fingers caused as they dipped into her cunt.

"Not all that good," Harold replied. "She's very possessive. Very jealous. It's sometimes hard to live with."

"I can imagine."

"I need more than she has to offer, Kitty."

She saw the picture and began thinking of how she would respond to it as he slipped more fingers under her panties, deeper into her pussy.

"You'll want a divorce, of course," she said.

"Sarah wants me to get a divorce. I'm not so sure that's what I want."

No, thought Kitty, smiling to herself. You want your mistress to be your wife and your wife to become your mistress. The only way you can manage that is to stay married to one, with visiting privileges, and live with the other.

She let him slip her panties down and spread her legs as he bent down, tongue darting out, to taste her pussy.

It might just work, Kitty thought she would have a solid marriage, a good home, all expenses paid -- and still be free to live her life as she pleased.

Harold's tongue went in her again, sending flashes of heat to her head, her eyeballs. Kitty could never remember wanting it, needing it, as she did now -- even as her contempt for him grew as he outlined his plan to have his pussy and eat it too.

She couldn't keep her hands off his cock, which slowly grew. God, how she wanted it!

He looked at her, his face hard, demanding. "Don't play games with me, Kitty. I know what you want, and I can give it to you. But you've got to play the game according to my rules."

"Which are?"

"First, to admit you want it, want it bad, and that to show me just how bad."

Kitty looked at his erect cock, feeling a wave of desire that became unbearable. "All right, I want it. I admit it I want it!"

"That's not good enough, Kitty. You've got to show me."

She wondered if the drinks were making him hard, even mean. He'd never talked to her like that before.

"I'm offering you a business deal, Kitty, just like I'm offering tone Curry a business deal. I scratch his back, he scratched mine. I scratch your back you..."

"Suck your cock on demand! Is that it?"

"It's a sweet deal for you, Kitty."

"And if I refuse?"

His eyes hardened. "I've got pictures, Kitty, of you and men, of you with women. I've got pictures of you with our gardener, in our own back yard! It could be a messy divorce, and you could end up without a damn thing!"

Her hand remained on his cock, which grew harder as his voice grew more demanding.

It was a far cry from what she really wanted, what she expected. But then life was a compromise.

"Take it, Kitty," he ordered. "Take it and when you finish, swallow. That's the deal I'm offering you. Take it, all of it, and swallow, or get out and see what happens next."

"How do I know Curry will win, that you'll get all this business you expect?"

"Curry will win. Believe me! Curry will win." She thought a moment about that, holding Harold's hard cock, looking at it, feeling his fingers once again crawl between her legs. She thought about her life if Curry wan, and about her life if Curry lost.

"You've got one second, Kitty!"

She took his cock in her mouth and sucked, then licked it all over, including his hairy balls, then sucked more. She felt his finger in her pussy, then in her ass. But she concentrated on his cock, on sucking it like it had never been sucked before.

She held his balls in her hand, running her tongue up and down the hard cock-shaft, then around the head, then she took it all, deep in her throat and sucked, and sucked.

She felt the come rumble from his balls to the base of his cock, then she thought she heard it roar up the cock-stem and gush out the piss-hole at the end into her mouth. She kept sucking as he gasped aid groaned. She kept sucking until the roar stopped, the fuck-juices stopped flowing into her mouth.

Then she looked at him and swallowed.

He looked at her with a satisfied, superior grin. "We've got a deal, Kitty."

She wanted more. She wanted his cock inside her pussy, deep and hard. She was just beginning.

Harold looked at his watch and pushed her aside roughly.

"Now get out!" he ordered. "I've got business!"

"Harold, please!" She hated herself for begging. She hated him for making her beg. "Harold, not yet!"

"Don't call me. I'll call you," Harold replied with a sneer. "And you better be ready to swallow again, if you want to keep that lovely house and car."

He was laughing as Kitty stumbled out the door, humiliated and completely unsatisfied.

"Never again!" she said aloud, looking at the bright Mars overhead, her fists and teeth clenched. "Never again will I be completely dependent on a man! My man!"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Tim and Doris Bladine were married for the second time in a colorful church wedding while their two children looked on, smiling blissfully for the television cameras. Doris, of course, was in virgin white. Tim kissed her lovingly after their vows were completed, then repeated the gesture several times for photographers.

The Bladine campaign for Mayor immediately became a family affair, blunting if not killing Curry's charges of domestic shambles in the Bladine family.

Money and a well-publicized campaign were essential to political success, but money alone wouldn't do the job.

Tim Bladine, the political pro, got almost sixty percent of the votes. A landslide!

Kitty followed the counting of the returns with intense interest, her bitterness long gone. She decided early in the game that she couldn't make plans to take care of Kitty, if she allowed bitterness to cloud her thinking. She made two plans, one for either outcome. Once she thought through each plan she didn't give a damn who won.

She expected Harold to call with the bad news, which he did, sounding lower than a snake in a gully.

"We lost," he said simply.

Kitty paused. "Lost what?"

"The election. Everything!"

"Oh, that. I'm so sorry, Harold, really. Tell Sarah I said hello."

She hung up before he could start blabbering his problems.

Kitty didn't wait for a call from Tim, which she knew he wouldn't make. Why should he? He no longer had any need for her. She picked up the phone and put in a direct call to Doris Bladine.

"We need to talk, privately," she said, her voice strictly business -- hard as granite.

"You've got a lot of nerve! Calling me!"

"Actually, it was Clyde's idea," Kitty replied.

"Clyde?"

"You do remember Clyde, don't you?"

Doris paused to settle her voice, to hide the mixture of fear and hope that lurked heatedly in her swirling mind. The mention of Clyde created an image of nothing but cock -- no face, no smile, no words -- just cock. The head of his cock filled one end of her vivid imagination. His lovely balls filled the other end. The only thing in between was hard cock.

"What, what about Clyde?" she asked, unable to hide the desire she felt.

"We'll talk," Kitty said, giving her the address of a small dimly lit bar just outside of Phoenix.

Doris hesitated.

"Be there in thirty minutes," Kitty said, replacing the receiver.

When Doris Bladine arrived at the bar and joined Kitty in an isolated booth in the rear, she was composed and ready far action. It would take more than a young housewife with a hot pussy to back her into a corner.

"I'm listening," she said coldly, avoiding the introductory niceties.

Ta her surprise, that was just the way Kitty wanted it -- strictly business.

"I happen to know you aren't getting any -- Mrs. Bladine," Kitty said, starting with a straight right to Doris' surprised face. "I also happen to know that once the glamour and excitement of being the city's First Lady wear off, your pussy is going to get hungry enough to gobble corncobs."

"You crude, filthy-mouthed little..."

Kitty smiled. "Do you want to play games and stretch this out? Or wouldn't you rather get all our cards on the table and talk business?"

"You mentioned something about Clyde," Doris said, unable to hide her interest.

"He's got a beautiful cock, hasn't he?"

Doris started to appear indignant, but decided she was up against her match. "Very beautiful."

"Now you're making sense." Kitty smiled. "Clyde's rigged up this gadget -- a bunch of webbing that holds you over his bed. It's like you're floating on a cloud, drifting up and down on that fantastic cock of his, up and down, back and forth, around and around. You don't have to move a muscle, just relax in those silk-like webs and float up and down on his massive cock until even your ears have organs. Care to try it?"

Doris' breath caught in her throat as she pictured such a scene. Her hand drifted unconsciously between her legs, feeling a damp patch begin to spread.

"You got the picture all right!" Kitty pinned.

"How could I possibly get away with it?" Doris asked.

It was the question Kitty had been waiting for. "I can fix it," she replied. "I can make all the arrangements, discreetly of course, and provide you with scheduled meetings to be elsewhere as well as witnesses that you were there."

"What kind of meetings? With who?"

"With me, to discuss city business."

Doris laughed. "You! Why should I trust you?"

"Trust has nothing to do with it," Kitty replied firmly. "Here's the deal..."

Kitty talked non-stop for fifteen straight minutes, then opened herself up to questions. There were none. She had made herself perfectly clear.

"You've thought this through very well," Doris smiled, suddenly admiring the housewife with the hot pussy. "Very well indeed." She paused. "What if I refuse to go along?"

Kitty smiled confidently, "You won't," she said, signaling the water. "Brink us a phone. My friend has an important telephone call to make."

Doris looked at Kitty's determined eyes as Kitty handed her the receiver. "You're awfully sure of yourself."

"Admit it, Doris, your pussy's dripping wet right now just thinking of that magnificent cock. Look! Even your mouth is beginning to water! You're wondering if you might even try to take it in the ass, right?"

Doris grabbed the receiver and began punching the numbers of the Mayor's private line.

"Kitty has a proposition I want you to give careful attention," she said, then paused to listen, her eyes becoming darker by the second as the Mayor talked. "Let me put it this way, Tim," she said, her eyes squinting like a cat about to jump a mouse. "I consider it a proposition you can't refuse!"

She hung up before the Mayor could respond and smiled at Kitty. "The rest is up to you," she said. "Don't worry." Kitty smiled. "I can handle my end."

Doris looked from Kitty's eyes down to her ass. "I have all the confidence in the world in your ability to handle both ends," she replied.

Kitty slipped Doris written directions to Clyde's place in Flagstaff.

"He'll be expecting you tomorrow afternoon," she said.

Kitty lost no time getting to City Hall where she was immediately ushered into the Mayor's office. He was with a secretary who stood beside him behind his vast, shiny desk. She was bending over some papers he held, her shapely ass pointed toward a window overlooking Jefferson Street.

Kitty smiled. If the drapes were open that ass could stop traffic.

"We can finish this later," the Mayor said. Both he and Kitty watched as the secretary wiggled out the door.

Tim leaned back, nodding for Kitty to take a seat on the opposite side of his vast desk. "What can I do for you?"

Kitty by-passed the defenses of his desk by merely walking around it.

"I want Harold to get the contracts he was promised by Rone Curry," she stated.

Harold laughed. "Your husband's man lost Kitty, lost bad."

"Somebody has to get those contracts. Harold's firm can do the job as well as anybody, and you know it."

"You're overlooking the political facts, Kitty. Successful politicians don't help their enemies get city business."

Kitty smiled, bending over his desk as his secretary had done, pointing her ass at the window.

"Unless there's something in it for him." She smiled.

Her fingers began working his fly. Tim sat passively as she zipped it down and reached into silk shorts in search of warm cock-meat.

"You're wasting your time, Kitty," he said.

"Am I?"

She took the soft head of his shriveled cock in her mouth, sucking gently. The softness began to swell and harden.

"I can't just grant contracts to..."

Kitty took his entire prick in one open-mouthed gobble, sucking gently, regularly.

"It isn't that simple," added the Mayor. "There has to be bids and..."

"See how quick your cock responds to my tongue." Kitty smiled, holding his hard cock, licking each side, then gently sucking the cock-head before ramming it all down her throat.

"You're good, Kitty. I'll have to give you credit, but..."

"Better than a secretary bucking for a steady job with a regular salary increase -- and one hell of a lot more safe."

"What do you know about..."

Kitty sucked again, working magic with her tongue. Her fingers drummed delicately on his balk.

"Damn Kitty! You're sending me up a wall! Why should I think you're any more safe than my secretary?"

"We'll discuss it later," Kitty said, going to work in earnest on his hard cock, enjoying her work as much as Tim's cock enjoyed her doing it.

"Kitty, wait!" he exclaimed. "I'm going to blow a wad big enough to sink the damn desk!"

Kitty went even faster, hotter, grabbing his balls to hold them still as her lips slid up and down on his throbbing cock.

"Goddamn, Kitty! It'll be one fucking mess in here!"

She kept sucking, harder, faster. When she squeezed his balls, the head of his cock gushed forth in a steady stream.

"Oh Jesus!" the Mayor sighed, sinking in his chair, visualizing the mess his secretary would surely notice as soon as Kitty left.

"Don't worry about it." Kitty smiled, taking a large swallow, then licking his cock clean.

She even tucked his prick neatly back in his pants and zipped up his fly, being very careful not to catch anything in the zipper.

"Very good." He smiled. "Very damn good?"

"There's more where that came from." Kitty smiled. "If my husband gets those contracts."

"I can understand that, but..."

"If Harold gets the contract, I will be his City Hall representative -- which means I will be in and out of City Hall frequently, on business."

"Sounds reasonable," Tim replied. "But just to make sure things are going smoothly, Doris will be the city's representative in overseeing the contract." Kitty smiled. "I will arrange for her to meet with key officers in my husband's company, to discuss their progress and problems. While she's meeting with them, I'll meet with you, when your schedule permits."

"Very neat. Everybody wins!"

Not exactly, Kitty thought with an impish grin. Everybody fucks would be more accurate.

The Mayor shook his head. "I'll have the city manager contact your husband right away. Leave his phone number with my secretary."

Kitty smiled. "You'll never regret this, Tim."

"There's one part about this I don't understand." Tim found.

"You only have to ask," Kitty replied. "We're business partners now. No secrets."

"Everybody knows your husband has a secretary he's fucking regularly. Why are you saving his ass like this?"

"It's flat his ass I'm saving," Kitty smiled. "It's my own ass!"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Kitty was in seventh heaven.

Shy, withdrawn Ethel had a mouthful of her tit, sucking for all she was worth. Big Edith was between her legs, her massive tongue lapping at her juice-filled cunt, plunging deep into Kitty's tingling pussy.

James was standing beside her bed, his cock hard, ready to plunge it in the instant Big Edith had her fill.

Harold had been told the front door was open, to just walk in, which he did, freezing the instant he took in the scene in the bedroom. He didn't know what to say or do -- or even think.

But he knew he didn't have to think. Kitty did all the thinking now. He just did as he was told. When she called, he was about to go out to dinner with Sarah, plans that had to be cancelled. When Kitty called, Harold jumped.

This time he was surprised to find that Kitty was not alone. He was even more surprised to see Big Edith going down on her. He had tried to lick her pussy exactly as Kitty had instructed him, and he was getting better.

But after watching Big Edith for just a few seconds, he knew he'd never measure up to her. Her tongue flicked at lightning speed, then plunged in like a dagger, only to come out flicking again, lapping the hard little clit in Kitty's cunt back and forth like a punching bag.

"Pay close attention, Harold." Kitty ordered. "You might learn something!"

As Kitty began writhing in orgasm, the only thing Harold learned was he was watching a real pro at work.

"My ass, Harold!" Kitty screamed, swooning to the soft feel of Big Edith's tongue, the savage bites of silent Ethel's face, her ass in the air.

"Now, Harold!" Kitty shouted. "My ass is on fire! Get it in my ass. Now damn it!"

Harold looked at James, then at the three women on the bed, and finally at Kitty's round ass sticking up in the air, waiting for him.

"Move, Harold!" Kitty ordered.

Harold meekly dropped his pants and crawled up on the bed, on his knees, rubbing his cock up, easing it into Kitty's lovely ass.

"Not that!" Kitty shouted. "Warm it up first with your tongue!"

Harold obediently withdrew his cock and bent his face into her ass, his tongue flicking like he had seen Big Edith's tongue operate.

"That's good, Harold!" Kitty screamed with delight. "You're finally getting it!"

He licked her asshole again and again, then eased his tongue in deep, feeling her muscles relax and moisten.

James kept watching Big Edith, his cock already hard and ready.

"You had enough yet, Big Edith?" he asked.

"Not yet," Big Edith replied. "You just play with yourself a while longer. I love this sweet pussy."

"Faster, Harold!" Kitty commanded, feeling her senses exploding in all directions.

Harold's tongue moved faster as her asshole opened to receive it all.

"That's good, Harold. That's it!" Kitty screamed happily.

Kitty closed her eyes. It was one hell of a bunch of compromises she'd had to make, deals she'd had to swing, but she'd done it. And she had it.

And damn how she loved it!

She leaned over the side of the bed, taking James' waiting cock in her mouth. Now she had it all, everything a woman could ask for!

The phone started ringing. Kitty was ringing too, so deliciously she waited until her multiple orgasms were spent before she answered it, holding Harold's head into her ass and fondling James' now-limp cock as she reached for the bedside phone.

It was Doris, steaming. "I've had this horrible fucking day! I've got to have some action, Kitty! You've got to line Clyde up for me!"

"All right, Doris, all right. Settle down. Can you meet him halfway, around Prescott."

"Shit, I'll go to Flagstaff if necessary."

"That's impossible. He's got a business to run, you know. Get your ass up to the Four Acres Motel. I'll have Clyde meet you there."

She immediately called Flagstaff.

"She'll take it in the ass tonight, Clyde. She's so damned hot she'll take it in the ear it you insist."

"In the ass?"

"Every Goddamned inch of it, Clyde! I've never seen her so hard-up for cock."

Clyde hung up without even replying.

"All right, you guys," Kitty said to her horny group. "The party's over for the night. It was good, damn. It was good! We'll get together again damn soon, you can count on it."

They all left but Harold, who lingered in a corner. "Kitty," he said meekly. "I'd like to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Sarah. She's..."

"You made your bed with her, Harold," Kitty said.

"I know, but..."

"Goodnight, Harold. You're getting better with that tongue. Are you practicing on Sarah, like I told you?"

"Sometimes."

"You need a lot more practice, Harold. Now go on back to Sarah where you belong."

"Yes, Kitty."

Kitty took a shower and perfumed herself all over, then sat before the mirror brushing her hair until the phone rang again.

"I know, Mayor," she purred. "I feel the same way, alone and hurting... of course I'm free. I'm always ready to serve my Mayor, you know that."

She crawled into bed smiling, her pussy still tingling with the memory of Big Edith's tongue, her ass content with the efforts Harold exerted. He really was getting better.

She heard Tim's key in the front door and clicked on the small overhead light that cast a mere twilight over the bed.

"Tim!" She sighed as he entered the bedroom, removing clothing as he walked. "I've missed you, darling."

"You sweet lying pussy!" He smiled, stripping down nude and crawling into her arms.

"Really, darling! I've done nothing all day but think about you, dreaming about this." She held his lips.

"Hurry!" the Mayor said. "My cock's dying for you!"

Kitty touched the tip of his cock playfully with her tongue. Then opened her mouth wide.

She smiled. It was the end of a perfect day, one of many perfect days she had experienced lately.

There was no better way to end it than to fall asleep with a hard cock going off in her mouth.

She gobbled it hungrily as the Mayor sighed in sensuous bliss.

THE END

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