Chapter 2
The instant Mary let out the adulterous cry for his rogue prick, he gave it to her right up to his balls.
"AAAWWRRGGggg!"
Sounds, not words, roared in her throat and came out in jagged, convulsive sobs. His cock was too big for her-much too big. And he had shoved it so quickly and so solidly up her twitching cunt that she could feel the big knob at the end of it rolling back the meaty folds of her pussy like a fist.
"H-hurts!" she gasped, finding her voice with a honk of protest.
But he was over her, all elbows and arms, with his lean loins shoved deep into the spraddle of her thighs. And his prick was in her too deep to be easily dislodged. She could even feel his large balls pressing hard against the thin crack of her ass.
"Hurts good, baby," he snarled, grinning at her tits and looking from one husky pink nipple to the other as if trying to decide which one to suck on first.
But one thing she could be grateful for: he didn't start fucking her right off. Instead, he let her expanded cunt soak up the invasion of his large column of hot meat. He simply held it inside of her, making her pussy adjust to every inch until after a few seconds her vagina began to relax, then cling, then throb sluttishly.
"Ummm..." she purred softly, letting a little rakehell smile pull at the corners of her mouth.
"Starting to feel good now, eh?" he asked, grinning back at her. "Lady, I been fuckin' older women since I was fourteen. I know how to treat you, and I know how to make you come so good you'll wriggle your toes for a week."
His whispered eroticisms drove fresh urges into her brain. This was the way sex ought to be, she kept telling herself, just animal and raw with none of the silly pretenses she and Frank had built into their marital life.
"Yes," she breathed up at him, her face flushed with the lewd impatience of a female dying to screw, "I want you to make me come ... fuck me until I'm coming over and over!"
His eyes fairly flickered with the lust her lubricous body was giving him, but he still wasn't ready to let her enjoy being pumped by a real man's prick. First he wanted to build her up again into a moaning, slobbering imitation of a whore. And he knew how.
With his stone-stiff cock still buried to the pubic hair in her tender cunt, he lowered his mouth down to one of her full-budded nipples. He wormed his tongue around and over it, licking at it lightly until it was quivering and covered with the slick juice of his saliva.
He did the same thing to her other nipple, making both of them into twin prongs of dark coral. Then he began to suck on them in earnest, pulling almost half the cone of each tit up into his mouth so that his tongue could manipulate the enlarged nipples. The more he sucked, the harder he sucked. His greedy young mouth made obscene slurping noises that filled her ears with almost as much pleasure as she was getting from his tongue. Before she started twisting and whining with the overpowering glut of such joy, his whole jaw was working on her palpitating titties. Such pulling and chewing and mad sucking was making her so hot to fuck him that she ground her teeth like a nymphomaniac!
"Fuck me, dammit!" she hissed. "Suck 'em while you fuck!"
She knew he was more than eager to screw now. Not only had the tit-lapping routine worked wonders on her hormones, it had made him horny as hell. She had felt his glorious young prick growing even stiffer, longer, bigger inside of her until the oversized meatus at the end of it was pushed right up against the mouth of her womb.
With his tongue still working lewdly on one shivering nipple, he began the oldest fun-game in the world. He started fucking a terrifically hot pussy.
Whatever small scraps of modesty she had been clinging stubbornly to now disappeared in the white heat of the new ecstasy he was giving her. Her cunt quivered and throbbed as he pumped her with deep, powerful strokes. She was glad he was so young and strong, that he had lean, muscled buttocks, because she knew he could fuck like this for hours if he wanted to.
She closed her eyes and let the tip of her tongue slide wantonly out of the corner of her grinning mouth. Without even realizing it, she began to make a humming noise deep in her throat, and her own spicy buttocks began to bounce up and down in lascivious counterpoint to his thrusting need.
"Deeper," she moaned, loving the way her whorish request seemed to make his lovely cock throb and stiffen as he screwed.
"Put your legs up over my ass," he puffed.
With the instinct of a born harlot she gladly inched and slid her legs as high up over his pumping butt as she could. Then she locked her ankles together and began to rock her blazing loins in a circular motion while he roughly fucked her up and down.
His balls slapped passionately against her ass-hole while the bed creaked and groaned with each thrust. It was the kind of continuous, solid screwing that no woman can take very much of without an orgasm. And she was no exception. She could feel her juices running deep and good, lubricating her cunt until the hair around her sex and the thicker hair at the root of his prick was matted and damp.
"I-I'm coming ... c-c-commmMMMMIIII-NNNGGG!"
The orgasm came upon her like a million bursting rainbows. Torrent after torrent of ruttish joy poured through her pussy and over her whole body as her liquids spritzed a fine hot spray over his jogging balls. She didn't think she would ever stop coming!
When it was over he was still fucking her as hard as ever, pulling his hard-on almost all the way out of her sappy cunt then thrusting it back so deep into her that she had to grunt to take it all.
Still tingling all over, she relaxed and began to enjoy the idea of having another orgasm, maybe even better and deeper than the first one. One thing she was sure of: as long as he wanted to ball her greedy twat with that stud-rod of his, she was willing!
He screwed her silently and vigorously for the next few minutes until her pussy was throbbing and sucking once more at the stiffness of his cock.
"Tell me when you wanta come," he husked.
She nodded blindly and kept her eyes closed as the new thrills began to pile on top of one another like big buckets of overflowing honey.
"Yaaaaag," she gasped finally.
Her approaching orgasms brought out the final burst of his maddest lust, and he fucked her so forcefully that the heels of her bare feet slipped down against his sweating buttocks and pounded at him like spurs.
"Yeah, baby!" he groaned at her through his bared teeth. "Come good with me! Fuck me off! Empty my hot balls! ARRRGGG! YYAAWWGGGggg!"
His enormously hardened prick suddenly stiffened into a long club of passion. With one or two spasmodic jerks of root muscles and a throbbing of engorged prick-veins he shot off deep in her aching cunt. His sperm came out so hotly, so violently that she gasped as it entered her womb.
He spurted three times into her, each thick glut of his nectar as solid as the first one. Then he spurted once or twice more as his horny cock began to slowly soften. Her own orgasms had come like a string of nickel firecrackers, one after the other until her whole pussy was opening and closing around the hard pole of his prick like a soapy fist.
He pulled his dripping penis out of her cunt almost at once. The glutinous lips of her slit clung to the big purple head as it slid out, then rolled back together all wet and red and highly sensitized.
She could have fucked six more just like him!
But he was already off the bed, pulling on his pants.
She lay with her legs spraddled lazily apart, the overworked gash between her thighs looking like a raw wound. She could still feel his sperm trickling out of her quivering cunt.
"Will I see you again?" she asked hopefully.
He turned away from her as he yanked on his boots. "That ain't hardly-likely, ma'am," he said in a soft, almost boyish voice. "We could get into a helluva batch of trouble doing something like that again. Besides, I'm married."
She grinned.
When he was dressed, he mumbled a quick good-bye and shut the bedroom door behind him. He said he had to finish up his work on the pool, then get back to see what else the boss wanted done that day.
After he was gone, she continued to lie in the bed. Her pussy still insisted on throbbing with pleasure even though the young stud's big penis had long been pulled out of it. But the memory lingered on.
It was sometime during the next few minutes, while her whole body and being seemed rehabilitated and alive for the first time in years, that she picked up the phone by her bed and made three telephone calls.
She told her three bridge-playing girl friends to come right over-and that what she had to tell them couldn't wait.
When Peg Barton, Jill Allen, and Rita Miles arrived, they could hardly believe the gleam in their friend's eyes, or the rosy glow in her cheeks, or the way she seemed ten years younger just at a glance.
"My God, Mary," Peg said, lighting a cigarette and blowing a whorl of smoke almost jealously toward the ceiling, "you look like Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm."
"She looks more like the cat that ate the canary," Jill muttered, eyeing her friend Rita before glancing back at Mary.
Mary knew how she looked-and how she felt. And she was enjoying both the catty irritation of her bridge-playing mates, and the news she simply had to share with them or die.
"Fess up," Rita said, wetting her lower lip and tossing her carefully combed, carefully dyed blonde hair against her shoulders. "Did you and Frank come into a million dollars-or did you discover the Fountain of Youth in your backyard?"
Rita's unwitting remark made Mary laugh merrily, and her three friends stared even harder at her.
"Did I say something funny?" Rita asked, indifferently.
"Funny isn't the word for it," Mary laughed.
"Then what is it, dammit?" Peg snapped. "Have you lost your marbles, or-"
"Not exactly my marbles, dear," Mary said, grinning. "But I did lose something-and I did find something in my backyard."
"Oh, hell," Jill snorted. "I'm tired of playing games. Either tell us what you're talking about or we'll-"
"I'm talking about sex, if you must know," Mary purred.
After registering appropriate astonishment, the eyes of Mary's three friends began to twinkle with interest.
"Don't tell me you and Frank made it out on the patio last night," Peg snickered. "Hardly," Mary said.
"You had a miscarriage all over a lawn chair," Jill said. "Nope."
It was Rita's turn, and since she was known to be the one with the bawdy mouth in the group they all waited. The wicked little grin she gave them first assured them that she had just the right parry to offer.
"You screwed a gopher," Rita said.
When the collective laughter had subsided, they were still as much in the dark as ever concerning Mary's mysterious behavior, but the subject of sex had definitely cleared up one aspect of the matter.
"Okay, we give up," Peg sighed. "Tell us-and don't leave anything out."
"I'll do better than that," Mary said airily. "I'll show you. Follow me, girls."
The quartet of bored, sophisticated upper-middle-class wives then moved from the living room down the hall to the glass doors leading to the patio, and to a view of the big swimming pool.
"There's my find," Mary said, pointing to the young workman who was now just finishing up the job of cleaning the pool. He had his blue cap back on, and even in the sunlight there was almost no trace of that big sex organ showing in his tight jeans.
All of Mary's friends peered over her shoulder at the sight of a perfectly ordinary, perfectly common young workman doing a perfectly boring job.
"What the hell," Jill murmured.
Mary grinned again. "Come back to the living room, let me make you a martini, and I'll tell you what the hell about him."
They trooped back in a somewhat nervous silence to the living room, and sure enough Mary made them twiddle their thumbs until she had drinks made and passed around.
"First of all," Mary began, when she had settled herself in a chair facing her three friends who were lined up like pupils on the sofa, "I want to make it clear to you lovely bitches that I have enough dirt on each and every one of you to hang you by your toes. To say nothing of what your husbands would do if they find out what I know."
"Now just a minute," Rita sputtered.
"What do you want, darling?" Mary countered, smiling. "Do you want me to begin with you? Very well, how about that broker friend of your husband's who came down from New York last Christmas? Or have you forgotten how drunk you got at the country club-and what you did with that perfect stranger out in the game room while I kept your husband involved in a long conversation."
Rita flushed, but half with the pleasure of remembering exactly what she had done. "Christ, if Walter ever found out about that. I do appreciate what you did for me that night, Mary. I mean, I could have made a real fool of myself if-"
"Exactly what I mean. That's your dirt, honey. And now for you, Jill."
"Me?" Jill echoed, her eyes growing wide under the frame of her dark hair. "I'm as pure as Snow White."
"Don't forget that Snow White lived with seven men," Mary said, grinning. "But I'm not talking about any dwarf, sweetie. I'm talking about that nice young golf instructor that you spent a wanton weekend with in Chicago. You know the one-the nice, tanned, blonde young man who was married, with three kids. You never did tell us how he was in bed."
"How did you find out about-"
"Never mind. But it is a choice pile of dirt, you must admit. And as for you, Peg..."
Peg said nothing. She already knew what was coming.
"Our sweet little fourth-hand bridge partner here," Mary said, drawing the words out deliriously, "once got very involved with one of her doctor-husband's patients. He was a professor, wasn't he, Peg? A very smart cookie who taught Greek or some damned thing."
"He was Greek," Peg said. "All six-foot-six of him."
"And you met him by accident in your husband Harry's office, and it was lust at first sight."
"Yes, we did have a fling for one or two nights-until I found out he was also having flings with seven or eight other females at the same time."
"Probably on the same nights, knowing those Greeks," Rita said, laughing.
"Anyway," Mary continued, "I think I have made my point clear. I have dirt on you, so I think it is only fair that you have some on me."
"We're all ears, honey," Peg said.
Mary took a deep sip of her martini, then leaned forward toward them. Her voice was deep, husky, excited. "That young mart working on the pool out there is not only the sex I have had in some time, he's the best sex I ever had."
Peg's mouth dropped open. "You mean you-"
"Let him screw me? That's hardly the word for what we did only an hour ago. I invited him into my bedroom, we took off our clothes, and he ... well, he balled me until I couldn't breathe!"
"Lordy," Jill whispered, wetting her lips slowly.
"He ... uh ... satisfied you, and all?" Rita asked, her voice quivery and weak.
"Until it was coming out of my ears," Mary breathed. "And I do mean coming."
"Jesus," Rita groaned.
Peg let out a long, half-disgusted sigh. "Well ... far be it from me to sound a sour note, but I do think you might have found somebody a little more socially acceptable, honey. I mean, I don't blame you any more than I blame myself for wanting some fun now and then-and God knows we don't get enough of it from those career-crazy husbands of ours-but to pull down your panties for some young oaf in overalls is-"
"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it, dear."
"Yes, but-"
"The only but I can think of is his butt," Mary quipped, her cheeks growing rosy all over again. Jill chuckled. "I gather he really knew how to do it."
"Well, you might say he didn't know how to do it," Mary insisted. "I mean, that was the wild, fun part of it. There was none of this silly finesse about the way he did it. He didn't try to act like Prince Charming, and he didn't seem to give a good goddamn about anything but pleasing himself. He did it to me like an ... uh..."
"An animal maybe?" Rita purred, eyes twinkling.
"Exactly-and made me feel like an animal, too. And let me tell you gals, feeling like an animal can be a whole big barrel of delight!"
Peg grunted. "I still think that if some male with dirt under his fingernails tried to touch me, I'd-"
"You'd feel it all the way down to your clit," Rita snapped. "And quit being such a damn prig, Peggy. This is a democracy we're living in. You're not Marie Antoinette, for Christ's sake!"
"Still..."
"Look," Mary interrupted, "the only reason I'm telling you all of this-and the main reason I invited you over-is to suggest we capitalize on my good fortune."
"You mean we drag him back in here and make him ball all four of us?" Jill gasped.
"Not a bad idea, but I don't think he could," Mary laughed. "Not after the session we had. No, what I had in mind was the three of you going after your own wild game."
"Run that by again," Rita said huskily.
"Simple enough. Instead of meeting next Saturday for our regular mind-numbing bridge party, why don't we meet some place for a drink-and a report."
"What kind of report?" Peg demanded tonelessly.
"A report on what you three have been able to accomplish during the coming week. A report on your affair with some male in the blue-collar class."
"You must be out of your mind," Peg moaned.
"I think it's a good idea," Jill said. "But I wouldn't know where to begin."
"Don't be silly," Mary trilled. "Use your imagination."
"Yeah, and if that fails," Rita joked, "use the yellow pages."
"You can count me out of this," Peg said soberly. "I think it's the craziest scheme for combating boredom I've ever heard. Besides, if my Harry ever found out-"
"It's up to all of you to see that your husbands don't find out. Look at my experience with the one cleaning the pool. Simple as pie. Frank went to work, and I went to work. He has his fun, and I had mine. And I don't have to worry about anything else coming of it. That well-hung young stud out there is married himself, and he's scared to death about his boss finding out he's playing around with the customers. I couldn't be safer in my own mother's arms."
Rita drained her martini, and came up with her eyes sparkling very blue and very sultry. "I don't know about Peg and Jill, but it sounds like one helluva brilliant idea to me. I'll play along."
"How about you, Jill?" Mary asked.
"I hate spoilsports. Count me in."
"Peg?"
"Huh-uh, but I'll come along next Saturday for the drink."
"Agreed then," Mary said. "We meet one week from today at the Blue Fox Lounge. Oh, and happy hunting, girls!"