Chapter 1
Mary Carter lay awake in her bed with her nipples as hard as pink thimbles.
God, she thought, how long has it been since I didn't wake up as horny as a bitch pussycat in heat!
Then she answered her own question with a sour frown. The answer was as obvious as the mossy circle of heated flesh between her legs-a circle that literally burned to be filled with seven, eight, nine inches of the really eager rod of a really eager male.
"Damn Frank," she muttered, tossing her head as she thought of her husband. Her dark brown hair spilled over the creamy whiteness of the pillow as she turned her face toward the empty twin bed only a few feet away. Empty and neatly made up. That was her Frank. Her early-up-and-at-'em husband with dollar signs instead of hormones.
Sighing, she threw back the silken sheet so that the swollen mounds of her still-youthful tits could have a little more freedom-even if there wasn't a man's naughty thumbs around to tweak and tease them until they grew milky and hot at the tips.
So what did it matter if Frank was the most successful architect in the city, if he got up at dawn like a farmhand and came dragging his thirty-five-year-old ass in at dusk, too tired even to pat her buttocks!
She grinned at herself wickedly as the lusty words bubbled in her mind. It was shameless of her to think about such things in gutter language like that, but she knew that until the world was completely computerized they couldn't arrest you for what you were thinking.
And she was thinking, quite frankly, about being screwed.
"Yes, quite Frankly," she whispered, enjoying the pun. "I would like nothing better at this minute than to pick up my pretty Princess telephone and call that errant hubby of mine to come home and give his wife a piece of old-fashioned, honeymoon-hot fuckingV
Just remembering how happy she and Frank had been on their honeymoon sent a fresh little ripple of lascivious need into her blood. Christ, he had been one beautifully sexed-up young stud when she married him-and that first night in a cabin in the Colorado Rockies had been like rolling on a cloud made out of peppermint and honey. Talk about making a gal feel her oats, he had turned her overnight from a dumb virgin with a tight slit to a howling little mink who wanted it so much and so often that he began to wonder if he'd married some kind of nympho.
Lying in bed this Monday morning, with the prongs of her mature titties sticking up against her nightgown like the thumbs of a lumberjack, she wondered herself if maybe there wasn't something slightly whacky about her constant thoughts concerning sex. She also wondered if her girl friends-Peg Barton, Jill Allen, and Rita Miles-really had their minds on bridge and cooking, on house decor and clothes as much as they pretended. She doubted it. Maybe they were getting a little more mileage out of their fairly youthful husbands than she was getting out of Frank, but they couldn't be getting too much more. Not with Peg's hubby a doctor, Jill's a lawyer, and Rita's a broker. With professions like that, they had to be almost too busy to romp in the hay at the drop of their wives' panties.
"At least I can take some comfort in that," she sighed, moving the tips of her fingers down to gently massage the bloated nubs of her hungry boobs. "If I thought for one moment that those sassy gal friends of mine were getting all the balling they wanted from their husbands, I'd go peddle my body on the street corner!"
For one wild, lusty second she let her mind run salaciously in such a direction. She imagined herself getting all kinds of lovers out of pool halls and off of curbs-young stuff with tight pants and very big, very long, very stiff and very willing rods who would be only too glad to-
"Stop it," she groaned, drawing her fingertips back up from the tingling, erected points of her tits. "If I keep this up, I'll be wanting to use the handle of my grandmother's hairbrush on myself-the way I used to do!"
To get her mind off the subject of sex, she reached over behind the edge of the bed and pushed the automatic drape button. With a quiet rustling sound the expensive drapes of the terribly expensive house slid back all the way to the walls, filling the master bedroom with bright morning sunlight.
She blinked for a few seconds, then threw off the sheet and hopped out of bed. What she needed, she thought mirthlessly, was a good cold shower. like the boys she used to know in high school. They said the coach always told them to take an ice-cold shower the second they got a hard-on.
"I guess it should work on stony nipples," she murmured.
Standing by the edge of the bed, she slipped out of her gown. She had some trouble because the filmy negligee caught on the lifting spires of her breasts, and hung there. She wriggled herself free, then stepped naked across the room to her dressing table. She bent over with her bare buttocks thrust back toward the wall-sized window and dug in a drawer for her shower cap.
It was while she was digging that she happened to glance into the bureau mirror-and see the man.
He was standing out by their swimming pool with a leaf skimmer in his hands, and he was staring so hard at her nudity that his mouth was slightly open. It was an honest, earthy stare of sensual interest, and even from the vague, mirrored reflection she could see that he was getting excited.
Her first impulse, naturally enough, was to let out a maidenly gasp of shock and run to the drape button. But she had learned long ago not to act on the first impulse until the second impulse had at least been considered. And her second impulse told her to keep digging in the drawer, to pretend she hadn't seen a thing in the mirror-to enjoy, in other words, the feeling of having a man stare at her rounded pink and white buttocks and the full-swinging hotness of her tits.
At least somebody found her interesting!
The only thing that worried her was who in hell the guy was. And then, as her fingers fumbled nervously in the drawer, she remembered what Frank had said the week before about the pool. There was something wrong with the filtering system, and green algae was beginning to form. And so he had said he would arrange to have a workman come out from the company that installed the pool.
Therefore, the man staring at her had to be the workman, and not a bad-looking one, either.
She dared one or two more surreptitious glances up at the mirror, and the more she looked at him, the better he looked. Common as dirt, probably, she thought, but marvelous shoulders and a waist as trim as a high school track runner. And although it was a little difficult to see exactly what he looked like from that distance, she thought she could detect a strong jawline, a good mouth, and a lock or two of thick black hair coming out from under his blue cap.
The longer she posed there, the more she warmed to the idea of being the willing subject of such a voyeuristic experience. After all, it wasn't that young workman's fault that she had zipped open the drapes and pranced stark-naked across the room. What healthy male wouldn't drop what he was doing and stare holes through such a dumb female? Only she wasn't all that dumb, not that he had to know it!
She began to subtly improvise on the situation.
She turned a bit more to the left, as if digging further over in the drawer, and let him have a better look at her tits. Far from suffering from the exposure to a strange stud's eyes, her nipples seemed to absolutely thrive on it. They grew round and hard and bright pink, like ripe plums placed lightly on top of two full mounds of cream. And she made sure that she moved just enough to let them bounce and joggle.
Not forgetting her bared ass, she inched her legs just far enough apart that if he looked hard and had twenty-twenty vision, he could get a tempting indication of the-haired cleft deep between her legs.
After a few seconds of this vivid accommodation, she allowed herself another glance in the mirror-and what she saw was worth every risk she had taken.
The workman had a hard-on.
She could see the enormous bulge along the side of his leg, and his tight, wheat-colored jeans served only to accentuate what was already obvious.
A hot little grin pulled up the corners of her mouth as she realized that the man found her desirable. But better-or more exciting-than that was the faint, prodding little itch which began to nibble at the edges of her cunt. She could feel the erotic need starting deep up inside of her, somewhere in the neighborhood of her womb, and inching down the musky tunnel of her pussy right to the hair-lined cuntal folds. Despite how shameless she knew it was, she felt a ruttish thrill as the moistening lips of her slit began to tremble, and to pull slightly apart.
You must be out of your mind, you silly fool, she told herself, to be thinking what you're thinking!
But she couldn't stop thinking it, and before she could check her latest impulse, she yielded to it.
Instead of looking for her shower cap, she searched frantically for her bathing suit!
She had three-one for parties, one for everyday swimming, and one for sunning. The one for sunning was the one she wanted, because it was nothing more than a diaper of colored cloth with a bra the width of a king-sized Band-Aid!
She found the suit, and stepped back from the bureau. She was careful not to turn, not to let the workman know that she had seen him, while at the same time keeping one eye on him in the mirror.
She saw him hitch up his pants, trying to do something about the inordinately large lump inside, but he was obviously past the point of no return. And when he turned to trot off toward the filter house at the back side of tne pool, she got an electrifying look at his hard-on in profile. It stuck out like the handle of a big hammer!
Then a thought not so pleasant came winging into her wanton mind: He could be going to the filter house to masturbate!
"Oh, no you don't!" she gasped.
With lightning speed, she whipped her creamy legs into the tiny suit and pulled it tight against her itching crotch. Then she scissored her arms into the bra and forced her bursting tits into the confining little cloth cups. With only a pause to grab her sunglasses, she ran like a deer out of the bedroom and to the glass doors down the hall which opened onto the patio. By the time she reached the edge of the grass she had slowed her gait down to a respectable stride, but she knew there was no time to lose.
The filter house was a little brick building behind the shrubs. There was barely enough room to turn around in it, but there was room for a man to get inside if he really wanted to. And she didn't intend to let that wonderfully excited young animal do something drastic without giving her a chance to help!
She also didn't want to give herself time to change her mind.
She got to the brick house just as he was trying to shut the door behind him.
"Did you come to clean my pool?" she trilled, her voice so high and hot that he banged his elbow against the door as he whirled around.
He came half out of the house with his face flushing a deep red. With one swipe he tore his cap off his head and held it down between his legs, trying like a teen-aged boy to hide what she was most interested in. But taking off his hat provided her with an extra bonus. Now she could see him for what he really was-a damned good-looking, healthy young stud of about twenty-five. He had blue eyes and thick dark hair, and his mouth was one of those roughly handsome mouths that you see on models who do all those outdoor Marlboro commercials.
The thought of letting him chew on her hungry titties made the blood pound in her head like a jackhammer.
"Uh, yeah, ma'am," he husked softly, blushing even more. "I was sent over. I think your husband called and-"
"Oh, yes, of course. My husband isn't home now, but I do remember. I guess I can't swim or anything until you're through."
"Well...!"
"No, I'm sure I couldn't," she said, grinning, feeling the sudden urge to be more brazen building up inside of her like a torrent. "I always swim in the nude, and that wouldn't do ... would it?"
He gulped, and she saw his youthful Adam's apple ride up and down like a cork in water.
"I just swim in the nude when my husband's not here," she said, purring a little and taking one more step willingly toward him. "And as I said, he isn't here now. Just you ... and, of course, just me."
"Lady, I-"
"And I can think of a lot of things I'd rather do than swim. I mean, a lot of things to do in the nude that would be a lot more fun."
This was a lot easier than she had thought it would be! She not only felt as lewd as a whore, she enjoyed very much acting like one in front of him. She wasn't at all sure why, but she felt as free as an animal talking and acting this way with somebody out of her social class. And the idea of carrying this as far as she could was turning her on all over.
"That's a cute hat you've got," she breathed softly, "but I think what it's covering is a lot cuter-and bigger."
The poor guy was coming apart with that kind of talk, and she loved it!
"L-look, ma'am, I don't know what you're after, but I just came over to clean the pool."
"Like hell you did."
"H-Huh?"
She grinned, and let the tip of her tongue ride over the bottom of her lips. "I saw you looking at me through the window, and I saw what it did to you, too."
"Oh, Jesus," he groaned.
She closed the gap between them, and in seconds she was standing so close to the bewildered young stud that the points of her barely sheathed tits were almost touching his shoulder.
"Screw me," she begged softly. "Come in the house and I'll close the drapes. I want fucked with everything you've got!"
His eyes grew wide and wild. "Are you out of your cottonpickin' mind?" he moaned huskily. "Lady, if the boss ever found out-"
"To say nothing of my husband," she cut in. "But who's going to tell them?"
"Yeah, but-"
"You liked what you saw, didn't you?"
"Hell, yes, I did, but ... uh..."
Before he could get the ragged sentence finished, she did the only thing she knew to do to prove she meant business. With a deftness that made him blink blindly away at her, she reached around and jerked open the little bow holding her bra up. The released pressure on her swelling tits made the snippet of cloth jump forward like a snake, and he caught it in his large, sun-browned hands.
He found himself staring at her shimmering breasts in the bright sunlight, the nipples ruddy and full and nosing up at him as if begging to be sucked.
"Godamighty," he husked, "you really do need some, don't you!"
"You catch on fast," she crooned. "Now, are you going to go into the house with me peaceful, or do I have to drag you in my your beautiful big balls?"
She barely remembered the return trip to the house-except that it was much more promising than the trip out had been. For one thing, his hands were all over her tits, feeling them, rubbing the nipples, squeezing and pumping at the plumpness of them with his fingers until she thought she would faint from pleasure. And she could thank God that the maid wouldn't be coming in until noon.
Once inside the bedroom, she locked the door so well that a troop of Marines couldn't have broken in. Then she jabbed the drape button so many times that the yards of material jerked and whisked over the window like skirts in a high wind. It made the room nice and dark-but not so dark that she couldn't see what she was getting!
The young workman had lost most of his modesty by now. It was as if he had decided that, come hell or high water, he was going to take advantage of a free piece of hot pussy. Since all she had to get out of was the triangle of bright cloth wrapped around her loins, she was already waiting and ready on the bed when he got down to his boots.
She leaned up on her elbows, feeling her randy tits bobble together, twin nipples pointing hard in different directions. She drank in the sight of his lean, naked buttocks as he bent over to yank off his workman's boots. The exciting view of his big, brown, almost boyish balls hanging down between his legs as he bent over sent a debauched ripple of mad desire up her spine. Lordy, she thought, I'll bet he can shoot those things off like cheap pistols!
She was so impatient to fuck that she spraddled her legs apart and rubbed the furry trench of her cunt with both hands, massaging the quickly thickening lips. When she pulled her fingers back they were wet with her juices.
"Hurry," she growled from the center of the bed.
He turned, holding one boot in his hand, his face flushed with the lusty pleasure that all horny young males feel the few seconds before mounting a hot woman. His prick was on full hard now, and it stood out from between his legs like a mighty club. He was circumcised, and the head of his large cock was bigger than she had expected-a big, smooth, pinkish bulb of meat perfectly designed to work its wicked way right up to the mouth of any woman's womb.
He got his other boot off and came to her as naked as a Trojan, his outsized penis wagging stiffly between his legs. He had only a sprinkle of hair on his chest, but at the root of his sex there was a bold bush of dark hair that trailed a few inches out onto the column. Just the thought of her pussy riding his pole deep enough to make his pubic hair mingle with the softer curls around her cunt made her clit thicken and push up through the pulpy folds of her pussy like a baby's finger.
"Ready for a good fuckin'? " he whispered, standing at the edge of the bed, grinning down at her and stroking his long prick with one hand.
For an answer, she pulled both her legs up until her kneecaps were almost touching her armpits. Her boiling twat was thus pulled open as far as possible, and she could see by the hot flicker in his eyes that he liked the looks of a mature cunt.
The bedsprings creaked as he crawled on. She knew he was going to be rough with her, and that sprinkled her already feverish lust with fresh, peppery flavoring. For the past few years, Frank had been too cautious, too polite, too sportingly considerate of her feelings when having intercourse-and now she was about to get it all the way all females really like it. like a bitch dog in heat!
She wasn't disappointed.
The first thing he did was to dig both of his powerful young hands into the soft underside of her thighs. He forced her buttocks so wide apart that she felt a sharp little flinch of pain. Then, holding her legs obscenely open with both his elbows, he pried the lips of her cunt back with the tips of his fingers. While forcing her to submit to such a whorish position, he lowered his head down between her legs and sniffed her ripe pussy. She could hear him sniffing and feel his nose touching along the hairs haloing her cunt. She remembered reading some place that the odor of a woman's sex can excite some males to a frantic need to fuck, but never in all her married life had Frank ever done that to her!
He smelled her frothy pussy until he was satisfied, and then he began to roughly lick it with his tongue.
The solid touch of his grainy tongue against the pliable hotness of her quivering cunt made her cry out with pleasure. It was obviously pleasurable to him to make her turn on, and he licked and lapped at her helpless slit until she was twisting under his attack like a virgin. He drove his long, hungry young tongue deep into the parted folds of her pussy and worked it back and forth, sideways, in and out until the sodden pussylips were clinging and sucking back at him like a mouth.
He stopped just short of making her come, and when he pulled his flicking tongue out for the last time she was so damned hot she would have gladly fucked the bedpost!
With a growl of simple passion, he grabbed the root of his fiercely stiff prick and rubbed the big head of it over the succulent protruding flaps of her cunt. He teased her with the tempting meatus of his rod until she was making savage sounds deep in her throat.
"Tell me you want it," he growled softly. "Beg me to fuck you with my big peter!"
Despite her desperate need to be fucked, and despite the fact that every inch of her body was burning with the passionate drive to feel this rough young bastard humping her like a bull, she couldn't bring herself to beg for it. Somewhere in the far reaches of her upper-middle-class brain was the stubborn conviction that she was still a lady.
But he didn't want a lady. He obviously wanted a slathering female bitch-whore, because that was what turned him on.
"Beg for it, like you did outside," he hissed, digging his strong fingers deeper into her soft thighs. "You want fucked good and hard, so say it!"
But even with her hot blood spurting in her veins, she hesitated.
With a lecherous grunt of sadistic lust, he suddenly used both hands on her. With one hand he drove his middle finger deep up into her pink-budded ass-hole, and with the other he began to massage her wet clitoris. The pleasure was so great in her that her restraint gave way like a rotten dike.
"GodGod, yes!" she moaned. "Say it, SAY IT!"
"Fuck me! Please! P-PPP-LEASSSEEE! F-F-FUCCKK MEEEeee!"