Chapter 5
After Zoe left Rose Smith, the woman stood in silent contemplation of what the gregarious Mrs. Jones had said. At first her old puritanical indignation surged through her with its usual negative attitudes; however, when she was able to subdue that false sense of propriety, and thought logically and realistically about Zoe's suggestions of sex, she knew beyond a doubt that Zoe was right.
Rose found her fingers winding in between the buttons of her blouse and daintily jerking the tiny pearl circles out of their holes. She removed her blouse, gently caressing her skin beneath as she did so. Then she unhooked her skirt snap and twisted to shimmy the tailored garment down her legs. She removed her high heels and reached up under her slip to unfasten her garters. Very sensuously she rolled the nylons down each of her finely turned legs, admiring their attractive shape, both with her eyes and the stroking of her hands.
Rose looked at her slip-clad body in the dresser mirror. She wore bra, panties, and a garter belt under the slip, but her body was so beautifully shaped that she required no supporting foundation garments. Slowly she eased one slip strap over her shoulder, and then the other, and slithered the soft silky slip down her body.
She was about to remove her garter belt, having unsnapped it, when there was a light rapping at her door. She let the garter belt fall, but grabbed for her slip as a protective device to hide behind. A shiver of excitement splashed through her body as she anticipated the presence of Ed Jones eagerly waiting on the other side of the door.
The knocking came again. Almost too anxiously she bolted toward it, hesitating only briefly at the knob before turning it and pushing open the door. Her eyes penetrated into the dimly lighted hallway.
"Rose!" Shock was amplified in Fred's voice as he viewed his wife in that stage of near undress. "What's happened to your modesty coming to the door like this? God knows, it might have been some other man, not your—that is—not me." He blustered. "Like—well, Ed Jones for instance. I'd keep your door tightly bolted, Rose. Why, the way he talks—I mean, he's absolutely salacious."
"Is he?" Rose tried to hide her interest.
"Yes. And the things he suggested that—well, really only insinuated—that go on around here." Fred's voice was intimately husky.
"Like what?"
"Well—Rose, I know you're not familiar with such things, but—well, everything from wife-swapping to—a—to homosexuality, both male and female—and, God knows what else!"
"Oh, really?" Rose lowered her protecting slip to the level of her panties so that her bra and mid-section were fully exposed. "He told you this?"
"And more." Fred looked from side to side and became even more confidential. "He even insinuated they had sexual org—that is parties."
"Orgies?" Rose's eyes were glistening.
"Well, yes. And he even had the audacity to suggest that we—you and I, I mean—might be interested in participating in such a degrading experience." Fred's face was ashen with indignation. "Can you imagine?"
Rose could, but she did not make comment.
"I think," Fred continued, and stepped more into the shallow light of the room, "that we had better get out of here before we're accosted. Lord only knows what could happened with sexual deviates running loose."
"Probably more would happen than with a couple of prudes running around up tight." Rose had a curious expression, half smile, half singular interest.
"My God, Rose, what're you saying?"
Rose stared her husband full in the face. Her tongue parted her mouth and traced along her lower lip. "Fred—why've you come to my room?" She tossed the slip aside so that she stood only in her panties and bra.
Fred's expression became even more startled and tinted with fear. "I—that is, I brought your overnight case." He extended the box. "Here."
Rose wiped her tongue over her upper lip before she reached to take the case. "Thank you, Fred. That was thoughtful of you."
"But you asked me—" Fred flushed and stepped back out of the doorway. "Good night, Rose. I hope you sleep comfortably."
Rose stood at the door and watched as the man she once deeply loved walked away from her room. What had happened to them? She leaned her face against the door. In her heart she did not want to divorce the man, but she did want sex often and on a regular basis. She knew this was underlining their decision to get a divorce, but for some reason she was unable to discuss it with Fred.
"Can I get you something?" Ed asked Fred as they met on the stairs.
"N-No." Fred was a little surprised to have encountered the proprietor. "I was just going down to the car to get a book to read."
"We have books—some you might like." Ed winked.
"I'm afraid your books wouldn't interest me." Fred wanted to escape the man's intense stare. "Excuse me."
Ed chuckled to himself as he watched the man dart down the steps, cross the lobby and hurry out the front door. He shook his head and wondered if his beloved wife had not decided to take off more than she could handle with the notion that she could sexually emancipate that man. But he knew that Zoe had, in the past, worked some almost impossible miracles on persons with peculiar sex patterns. If anyone could bring Fred Smith out, it would be Zoe.
Ed had several little odds and ends to do between the time he passed Fred on the stairway and the time that he knocked on Rose's door. From the dark end of the hallway, he had seen Fred return with his book, stealthily creep toward his room, hesitate as if he really wanted to go to Rose's room, then go into his assigned compartment and bolt the door behind him.
Rose had removed her makeup and bra and panties, and had pulled on a flimsy dressing gown. The gown had only one bow at the throat, leaving the rest of the gossamer front open. It was to have been worn over a nightie, but on a whim, Rose had nothing under it. Perhaps she was wondering if Ed Jones really would appear as suggested by Zoe, or maybe she was hoping that her husband would have second thoughts and return. All she knew was that she had worked herself into a state of anticipating a sexual experience. She would be greatly disappointed if it did not happen.
Her eyes shot from her reflection in the mirror to the door, at the sound of the light tapping. She checked her appearance in the glass, certain she looked casual and not too eager. The latter part was difficult to enact, since she was all but ready to jump out of her skin. She pulled the front of her dressing gown together and held it in place with her left hand as she opened the door with the other.
"Yes?"
"Mrs. Smith—Ed Jones."
"Yes, Ed—or rather, Mr. Jones, what can I do for you?"
"You can begin by calling me Ed."
"Ed?" She said it once, twice, a third time. "With such informality, Ed, it would seem Mrs. Smith is out of place. Besides, I'll be the erstwhile Mrs. Smith soon, anyway." Her eyes waltzed over his checkered shirt, his tight, revealing trousers, his moccasins, and back up again. "What can I do for you, Ed?"
"I merely came to see if there was anything you needed."
"No, thank you, not a thing." Then she remembered. "Well, there is one thing."
"Yes?"
"Perhaps you'd better come in so we can discuss it."
Ed ambled into the room like an awkward schoolboy. He crossed to the bedpost, turned around and looked at the woman, who closed the door firmly behind her and propped herself against it. Ed was all personality smile.
"Your wife—that is, she said— Well, actually, I don't know where to begin." Again Rose's eyes swept over the masculine body before her the masculinity accented by the rugged attire.
Ed stretched and rubbed his hand over his bald head, giving him an even more intriguing pose. "Pardon me for stretching, but I've had a pretty hard day."
"Hard?" Rose smiled and looked away as she felt her face redden.
"Yeah, hard." Ed underlined the word hard with his voice so that he was certain his projected meaning was picked up. "Lots of things to do around here."
"Things to do?"
"Chores and the like."
"Oh." Rose started to cross into the room.
Ed beamed a whimsical smile. "Don't you think you'd better bolt your door?"
Rose stopped short. "Bolt my door? Whatever for?"
"Don't think you'd want your husband busting in on us when we're stone naked, would you?" His eyes twinkled.
"St-stone n-naked?" She clutched her dressing gown, realizing it was quite transparent.
"Well, my clothes aren't as see-through as yours," Ed chuckled, "but you've been trying your damn'dest to eyeball right through them. I might as well take them off so you won't get eye-strain or something like that."
"No! My goodness!"
Ed had reached to unbutton his shirt. "No?" He popped the button out of the hole and dipped his finger to get the second. The tufts of hair at his chest sprang forth. He cocked his head, beamed a sensual smile and repeated, "No?" Before she could answer, he had the third and forth buttons undone. Her attention was fixed on his finger movement. Now he reached in and smoothed his hand over the fullness of his belly and chest, using his wrist to pop the fifth button open and work his shirttail out of his trousers so that his bare skin could be seen. "No?"
"Well—" Rose's eyes were fastened to the sight as if she had never seen a man's bare belly before. She smiled foolishly, and turned so crimson with internal heat that she got giddy.
Ed stepped out of his moccasins at the same time that he ripped the rest of his shirttail from his trousers. Then, with a languid movement, he eased himself out of the shirt.
Rose perched herself against the dresser, folding her arms as she watched the performance. Ed snapped open the top button to his trousers and looked from Rose's eyes to the latch on the door. Looking back, Rose got the message. She braced herself and moved to the door. Suddenly she felt like an evil woman, a trollop, a whore—and she liked the feeling. Trembles of excitement shot through her as she shoved the bolt in the latch. She stood facing the door, perhaps working up the courage to look back, when she heard the ripping open of the buttons on Ed's fly. Not wanting to miss the performance, she quickly pivoted around.
Ed wore no undershorts, so Rose could see his torso from the root of his cock up the fullness of his chest. Letting his pants rest there without exposing his organ of pleasure, Ed raised first one foot and then the other to remove his stockings. Then, standing upright, he bounced his trousers around his hips, teasingly, as if he was uncertain whether he was going to remove them or not.
Ed grinned. "It's been a long time since you've had a good fucking, hasn't it?"
"A good what?" Rose was feverish with excitement.
"A good fucking. You know." With a jerk, he pushed his trousers down his legs and stepped out of them.
Fred Smith had propped himself on the bed with two pillows and an extra blanket that had been at the foot of the bed. He needed the head elevation for his adenoid condition. Besides, it was a better position to read in. He had a statistical book on engineering, a report of current trends. It was dull and he could barely work up interest in it. His mind kept racing back to the sexual insinuations that Ed Jones had made earlier.
Fred didn't like to think about sex. He was bothered that so many people seemed overly preoccupied with talking about it, cheapening it, degrading it. He had adopted an attitude of thinking of sex simply as an act of reproduction, and any other activity in that direction was sheer indulgence in sin. That was that. But as he thought of it, he looked down at the covers over his pajama-clad body and noticed a significant bulge at his crotch. He was startled to think that just contemplation of the subject, even in a negative way, was causing such a reaction in him. But he was completely alone, why should he be embarrassed? Maybe there was something wrong with him. He had had a fairly active libido in his youth, before he allowed a fundamentalist preacher to convince him that sex was evil, the work of the devil. Of course, at that time, even though married to Rose and the father of two children, he found himself lusting after any and everything he beheld in women's clothing. That's when he decided the preacher was right. So he diverted the sexual energy toward his business endeavors. However, in time, he somehow became convinced that sex, even with his wife was dirty.
Looking down again at the covers over him, he was aware of a bone-hard erection pushing at them. Usually, at such times, if the pressure between his legs got this great, he would masturbate. However, a picture of his wife standing in her room in her bra and panties flashed into his mind. The covers were lifted off his body by the springing of his penis. He put the statistical book on engineering aside, and, on impulse, opened a drawer of the table beside the bed. There he found a paperbound edition of a ribald adventure. The book was well-worn and dog-eared, but he thumbed through it, nevertheless.
About the time he found himself becoming involved with the pornographic text, and aware of a throbbing erection, he heard a low rapping at his door. Hurriedly, he fumbled to stuff the book back into the drawer and arrange himself in bed in such a way as to disguise his excited condition.
"Yes?" he called as he noticed the bolt locked at the door.
"It's me, Zoe Jones. I've brought a little something for you."
"I'm asleep."
"Do you talk in your sleep?"
"Well, no, but I'm in bed and don't wish to be disturbed."
"Alone?"
"Certainly."
"Then let me come in for a minute—or two. I may have something that you're badly in need of."
What Fred Smith was badly in need of at that moment was something that would relieve that terrible stiffness in his cock. He could not believe Mrs. Jones had a remedy for that. Then, on second thought, he wondered. "Just a minute." He hobbled out of bed, his extended cock thrusting between the fly of his pajama bottoms. He quickly snapped it back inside, realizing full well, that the hardness would be apparent. He grabbed his jacket and held it in front of him. Unbolting the latch, he pulled the door slightly ajar. "Yes, what is it?"
"I'd like to come in, if I may." Zoe pushed the door so insistently, that he could not refuse. As she stepped into the light, he could see she was only wearing a shorty robe and slippers. "Here!" She thrust a glass of warm milk toward him.
Caught off guard, Fred moved in such a startled way that his hand hit against the glass and milk slopped over the rim of it. Most of the escaping liquid landed on the jacket in his hand. "Oops!"
"Oh, dear, look how clumsy I am." Zoe sat the glass on the dresser and reached for a nearby towel. "Here, let me clean that off before it stains." With no further explanation, she snatched the jacket from his hands.
In the messy confusion of the moment, Fred's attention was attached to his jacket and not to the fact that his rock-hard prick had sprung back to the fly of his pajama bottoms and the cockhead was now protruding.
Zoe's eyes shot from the jacket to the fly of his pajamas. "Oh, God!" Fred grabbed for the top of the pants, only to pull them in such a way that the full length of his cock slid forward.
"Hmmm," Zoe said, "and your wife told me you were impotent. The very idea!"
"Oh, well, that!" He was all thumbs as he jerked and tugged at his pajamas. "I'm terribly embarrassed."
"Why?" Zoe wiped the jacket, which required little attention, then handed it back to Fred. He was awkward, not knowing what to do with it and, at the same time attempting to get his cock back into his pajamas. Zoe reached out her hand and caught the head of it.
"Mrs. Jones, I— Oooo!" He exhaled two enormous gasps of air which could be taken for sighs of an erotic nature.
"The name's Zoe. It always sounds so awkward for a man to call me Mrs. Jones when I've got his cock in my hand—or in any place else." She admired the extended muscle with appropriate sounds of approval. He grabbed for the bedpost to balance himself, as tingling sensation after tingling sensation circled through his body, up and down and back again. "Rose tells me it's been quite a while since you've unloaded this thing in her direction."
"I—that is, I-I don't— Oooo! God I don't care for sexual— Please, Mrs.—I mean, Zoe. Sex is evil!" Fred looked as if he were in a state of shock.
"Since when? Want t' bet?" She stroked the skin back and forth on the glistening tube of flesh. "It feels pretty good to me-now, doesn't it to you?"
"Well, yes- I mean ... "
"Maybe you've just forgotten what it's like."
Fred swallowed hard. "Yes—maybe."
Zoe put her hands to the strings of his pajama bottoms, allowing his cock to flail the air without her assistance. She jerked at the strings; they came apart and the pajama pants slid down his leg.
Rose Smith was lying on her back, naked after Ed had given her a hand with removing her flimsy attire. She did not really resist his advances, but she was frightened and excited all at the same time. Once she got on the bed, at Ed's direction, he strutted around the room like a breeding rooster, just to let her get a full look at his body. He was of the opinion that the sight of a naked man, alone, was a stimulant to a woman, particularly one who had not been receiving regular male service. His cock dangled semi-hard, but he wanted her to be more interested in his overall physique rather than just his cock in particular.
What Ed had presumed was working, for as Rose watched his prancing maleness, she envisioned that solidly packed flesh hovering over her, pressing against the softness of her body. She even imagined his heavy work-hands caressing her, cupping her breasts, stretching the lips of her cunt apart so he could gain entrance. She had begun to roll with her prurient thoughts, tremble and break out in a cold sweat all at once. She watched as long as she could stand it.
"Ed—?" she interrupted a train of chatter the man had been going on with about the lodge.
"Huh?"
"Why do you want me on the bed, if you're just going to pace around like that?"
"I'm not pacing, Rose, I'm just letting you get a good look."
"I've seen enough. I want to feel a little now."
"Whenever you're ready, honey." Ed stood with his hands on his hips, undulating his pelvis so that his cock circled around, hit against first one thigh and then the other as stiffness caused it to lurch forward. "Ever had your cunt eaten out?"
"Ever what?"
Ed could tell by her reaction that she was innocent to that activity. He crawled onto the bed beside her, letting his cock-head ooze up her leg as maximum hardness filled it. Lying on his side, he ran his hand up her belly to her breasts, while his cock drummed out an occasional thud at her thigh, the head bouncing toward and barely touching her pubic hair. Then he cupped the tit nearest him as he admiringly fingered first the saucered nipple of one and then the other.
"Go ahead, get a feel of my body, too—especially of my pecker."
"Ed, I—" Before she could finish, he lowered his mouth to her nipple and licked his tongue around where his fingers had traced. "Oh, Ed—!" Gasp. "Oh, the pain!" Sob. "My-my!!!" Shrill, followed by a stifled gasp. She tried to force his mouth away from its goal, and only managed to flop her body about spastically so that the head of his cock jabbed toward her cunt. Impulsively, she reached her hand to clasp about that spear of meat. One feel and she immediately wanted to have it thrust between her cunt-lips. As he sucked from one nipple to the other, and she rolled with a frenzied violence, she made valiant jabs at trying to aim the cock-head into her snatch, but merely succeeded in running it the length of her slit and rubbing it into and around her clitoris. She screamed out and moaned as she shook her head from side to side.
After he had sufficiently washed her nipples and tongued around the complete circles of her breasts until she was a mass of vibrating sensation, Ed slowly began lapping his way down her belly, gradually changing his position so that his head was aimed down toward her cunt and his crotch got nearer and nearer her face.
She squeezed the neck of his cock and held it so that she could get a close look at it. She and Fred had never practiced anything but ordinary, one-position intercourse. That was all they knew. Consequently, she had never had the opportunity of getting such an up-close view of a male organ. In fact, the Smiths always had sex in a darkened room, which went along with their basic theory that sex was dirty.
Now, seeing a cock at such close range, and feeling the hot throbbing texture of it, the excitement that gushed through Rose was uncontrollable, and about the wildest sensation she had ever known. She stared cross-eyed at that bountiful organ, gripping it as if she were hanging on for dear life. There was no doubt she was completely hypnotized by it.
She shrieked, gasped and sobbed, followed by a moan that came from her innermost parts as Ed used his fingers to spread her cunt and connected his tongue directly to her clitoris before washing in between and around her cunt-lips, and back once again to wiggle about her clitoris before he sucked it in between his lips. Never had a mouth touched her there. She jolted and bucked like a young colt, a hundred ripples of excitement swirling through her, echoing and reechoing in every nerve and fiber of her being.
"Oh, goodness, Ed! What are you doing?"
"You don't like it?"
"I—well, I-it's fantastic!"
"Then why don't you lick on my cock and stop bothering me with dialogue while I'm getting my jollies?" Ed straddled her body so that his cock gouged down toward her face, as he spread her cunt-lips wider to penetrate his tongue further within.
When Rose hesitated at taking his cock, other than in her hands, Ed changed positions so that the point of it slid between her tits. She grabbed it again and directed the cock-head to circle her nipples.
Now Ed licked deep into her vagina, scraping the slippery walls with the tip of his tongue as if attempting to lap all the cunt-juice from them. He used his fingers to massage her clitoris, as he reached his other hand down to his cock between her tits. Taking it in his hand, he bent it back and guided the head of it so it could ooze over her lips.
"I can't, Ed! I can't!"
Ed pulled his face from her cunt long enough to ask, "You want me to stop what I'm doing?"
"Oh, no! No!"
"Then at least lick on the head of my peter, or we'll forget the whole deal." Ed tried to sound angered.
"Oh, no, Ed! It's just that I've never—!"
Ed pinched her clitoris with his fingers and circled it with the tip of his tongue. Slowly her mouth opened until she circled the entire head with her lips. Then, reluctantly and, at the same time, anxiously, she allowed her tongue to move forward until the tip of it rounded the glistening head. Her lips tightened and she sucked in.
Fred Smith was flat on his back, his arms out at his sides, his fingers gripping into the bedding until they ached with the force of pressure he was applying; his legs were spread, his toes curling, shivers of excitement running throughout his body, especially sensitive at the parts of his legs where Zoe's body was touching him. She had crawled between his legs after thoroughly washing his torso with her tongue, then lapping her way from his ankles up to his crotch. At first it took a little more salesmanship than usual for her to coax him to try this form of sex, but from the instant her tongue wet his skin, she could tell he was hooked (whether he would later admit it or not). By the time she sucked in on his balls, and lined the underside bulge of his cock with her tongue, he was writhing in convulsive delight. He seemed to be holding to the sides of the bed for dear life.
Now, as Zoe held his penis with one hand, while the other scratched and caressed over as much of the rest of his body as it could, she opened her mouth wide over the knob of his steel-like organ; Pushing her fingers down to the root to steady it, she lowered her head so that the interior of her mouth was completely surrounding, yet nothing but hot air was touching it. Then, when she removed her fingers from the base, the backside bulge fell against the broad expanse of her tongue as she puckered her lips and covered his cock with the hot moistness of her mouth.
"God in heaven! God in heaven!!" Fred shrieked and rolled his head from side to side, gritting his teeth and emitting sounds of ecstatic agony.
She pulled her mouth up on that column of muscle and lowered again, repeating the action several times as she could feel the inner workings of his sex organ trembling against the interior of her mouth. The heavy veins along the side of his penis scraped against the liquid of her tongue, and she knew it would only be a matter of minutes before that spear would be spewing forth a volcano of semen into her mouth.
"Oh, Ed! Ed!! Ed!!!" Rose Smith gasped, as though the very sound came from the tips of her toes.
His cock had slipped out of her mouth and was propped against her chin, the head of it just barely touching her lower lip. He had pressed his body against her so that his thighs touched hard on her tits, and the hair stimulated her nipples with their very coarseness. He was undulating his body while he tongued as deeply into her vagina as he possibly could, his fingers triggering her clitoris into a moment of climax.
Rose grunted and sighed, heaving her pelvis forward as if attempting to get even more of Ed's tongue up her snatch. The pressure of his fingers on her clit now caused the blood to surge hotly throughout her body as the moment of climax tingled every part of her. She screamed and became so convulsively spastic in response that he knew she had shot her juice. That so inspired Ed that, on the cue of her vocal response, he ejaculated, his sperm gushing from the end of his cock onto her trembling lips and spurting into her mouth so that she could taste it on her tongue. She clawed her fingers into the cheeks of his ass as if she intended to draw blood.
Fred's body jerked and quivered as little needles of excitement prickled his entire nerve network and every atom of his body became alive with the sensation of climax. Cum spat from his cock into the hot channel of Zoe's mouth, and she lapped it up as if it were precious cream.
Deep sobs accompanied Fred's ejaculation. That convulsive response developed into soul-deep crying as tears streamed down his face. Once Zoe got up from between his legs, he rolled over onto his stomach and shook with near hysterical sobbing.
Zoe sat on the side of the bed, stroked her hand gently over his back. She would wait until he was ready to be aroused again, then teach him at least the first steps of cunnilingus.