Chapter 7
By the middle of the week Mary Carter was as horny again as a whore in the middle of a Marine boot camp.
The escapade with the young swimming pool stud had certainly taken the edge off of her sex hunger for a few days, but now it seemed like ancient, if glorious, history, and the same old lewd itch was tickling the deepest corners of her mature cunt.
"Dammit," she whispered to herself in the middle of her Wednesday morning bath, "I don't see any reason on earth for not having another lovely little fling. If I can get away with screwing a strange young stud in my own house, I can certainly get away with doing it away from home."
Yes, but where away from home? she wondered.
She knew she could always call the same plumber that Jill had called, except that she was afraid to risk romping and screwing in her bedroom again. Her husband Frank had a distasteful little habit of running home at any time the spirit moved him. And she had already tempted the fates once and gotten away with it.
Nope, this time she'd go out on the prowl.
While she was still soaking in the tub and pondering the weighty problem of finding a blue-collar male to ease her itch, the imitation-antique French gold phone by the tub jangled tunefully.
"Yes? Yes, this is Mrs. Carter-he wants what?"
It was her husband's secretary, asking her to please drop by the office with the blueprints for the Higgens home. She was told she would find them in the top left drawer of her husband's desk in his study. And, oh, would she mind waiting around the office a few minutes until her husband could check something on the original blueprints-and then would she mind running the second copy of the blueprints out to the construction site and giving them to the head foreman?
"Does he want me to take a spade along, too?" she asked acidly, seeing this interruption as something that would keep her from following her own blueprints for finding sex.
And then, in the middle of her faint irritation, a carnal grin worked her mouth upward.
"Tell my husband I'll be glad to do as he asks," she purred into the phone.
When she clicked the receiver back into place, her grin was still wide and wanton.
"What better place to find myself the kind of rugged, pussy-hungry, muscle-bound young stud than a construction site?" she breathed happily.
She hopped mermaid-like out of the soapy tub and began to towel her voluptuous, ripe body until her skin was rosy and gleaming. She drenched herself with an expensive perfume, touching generous amounts to the peak of each firm nipple, then poured herself into the prettiest dress she could find. She wanted to look sexy-but not too damned sexy. She didn't want Frank to suspect that she had fornicating on her mind, and yet she wanted to be the kind of whistle-bait that healthy young males yearn to paw.
She found the blueprints and roared off to Frank's downtown office, her heart pounding like a virgin on her first date.
She knew she had passed the clothes test when her husband's snotty secretary barely gave her a glance-while the sixteen-year-old office boy practically got a hard-on when she pranced past him. He was a cute little trick, too, she realized, and it frightened her a bit to think what she was thinking. She wondered just how much fun it would be to get locked in a cheap motel with a teen-aged boy like that. Probably be like Christmas and the Fourth of July rolled into one continuous round of mad fucking, that was what!
She found Frank and gave him the blueprints. He barely gave her more than a peck on her cheek, and she sat on his leather office sofa and smoked a cigarette until he was finished checking whatever it was he had to check.
"Thanks, hon," he said as he handed the blueprints back to her. "You sure you don't mind running these out to Bill, the foreman at the Higgens place?"
"No trouble at all."
"That's a good sport."
"Oh ... uh ... how will I know which one is Bill?"
Her husband shrugged. "Easy. He's the only one out there. We stopped construction yesterday until we could get a few snags ironed out. Bill is out there by himself this morning. You can't miss him-big guy with shoulders like a pro footballer, curly blonde hair, and as nice a guy as you'll ever hope to meet."
Music to her ears!
She tried to keep the stinging tingle of excitement from showing in her face as she left the office and rode the elevator back down to the street. It was only as she was winding her way swiftly out to the suburban section of the city where the Higgens house was being built that the weakness of her little plan clanked into her brain.
"Making Frank's own foreman is risky," she breathed. "About as risky as trying to seduce his brother, if he had one. He sounds awfully tasty and built for sex, but how do I know he won't talk his fool head off about it?"
She wondered if maybe the office boy wouldn't be a better bet after all.
She would have backed out, she told herself, but she did have the blueprints to deliver. And at least she would be able to cruise a nice hunk of man-even if she couldn't work up the nerve to rub her shank against his crotch!
The Higgens house was one of the big ones, in a very exclusive section of a new development called Hideaway Hills, a half-wooded, half-landscaped area where only the topnotch of Frank's clients could afford to build.
She had no trouble finding the construction site because of the big orange bulldozers and cement trucks parked at crazy angles behind the trees. And off to the left, half-hidden by billowy clumps of thick bushes, was the foreman's trailer house. It was the custom for the foreman to actually live out on the site until the major part of the work was done. That way, he could serve as night watchman as well as supervisor of construction.
But the nicest part about the young men who served in the capacity of foreman, Mary knew, was the fact that they were usually bachelors. They were almost always young engineers fresh out of college, trying to get established with a big firm, and she had no doubt that this one named Bill was as typical as they came. Not that any of it was going to do her any good.
She drove up beside the trailer and parked. Then, with blueprints in hand, she strode around to the side door. She was both surprised and disappointed to see a note taped on the door, a note addressed to her in a heavy, masculine scrawl. She took it off the door and read it, aloud:
"Please leave the blueprints inside the trailer on my desk, Mrs. Carter. I had to run on a little errand and Fm afraid I won't be back for a couple of hours. Hope you don't mind. Bill Walker."
She frowned and stuffed the note into the pocket of her dress. He would never know just how much she did mind!
Sighing, she yanked open the door of the trailer and climbed up inside.
The interior of the house-on-wheels was a mess, typically a bachelor male's lair. In one glance she saw the sofa piled high with dirty clothes, the floor strewn with boots and shoes and socks, the little kitchenette with dishes towering in the sink.
And then she saw the screen and projector.
"Hmmmm," she breathed softly, "I wonder if I'm letting my imagination run away with me, or if ... "
There was only one way to find out. She put down the blueprints on the cluttered desk, then sneaked over to the projector. One film was still threaded in the machine, and a dozen or more were stacked up beside it. like a naughty child dipping her hand into a cookie jar, she picked up one of the fat wheels of film and glanced at the title:
BACK ALLEY BITCH.
She felt a little salacious thump of excitement deep in her loins as she snatched up a second roll. THE SCREW DRIVERS.
"Lordy," she crooned, smiling at the obscene titles, "so this is how bachelors get their kicks-watching smutty movies!"
With trembling fingers she went through the whole stack of porno films, and each title seemed hotter and lustier than the one before:
LEWD AND LOVELY; TWO BAGS FULL; STUD FREAK MEETS SLITTY CLITTY; THE ALL-NIGHT COMERS!
By the time she had pawed through the prurient stack of stag movies her blood was churning in her veins.
She had never seen a fuck movie before, and she was dying of curiosity.
With her heart thumping like a drum, she leaned over and read the title of the one on the projector:
BALLING THE JACKS!
"That one's got to be about sailors," she purred hotly. "And I wish I had the nerve to..."
She decided it wasn't nerve she needed, but time. Without bothering to weigh the danger of the notion, she grabbed the note back out of her pocket and read it again. He wouldn't be back to his trailer for two whole hours.
She felt another little surge of spicy excitement playing at the fattening lips of her pussy. Just the thought of what erotic images lay waiting on that roll of film on the projector was enough to make her juices start running. It might be the one and only time in her life that she would have the opportunity to look at a dirty movie, and by God, she didn't intend to be denied it!
Thinking exactly like a thief, she locked the door of the trailer from inside-just in case-then she closed the curtains on the side window to make it a wee bit darker. She knew something about projectors, having run them at several of her women's clubs' meetings, and she was relieved to see that this particular one didn't involve sound. And a silent smut movie is what I need, she reasoned, because that way I can hear his car if and when he drives up. She further reasoned that she would have plenty of time to shut off the projector, unlock the door, and pretend that she had just stepped in and was just stepping out of the trailer. A perfect little crime.
With her lips in a set smile, and the curves of her cheeks blushing coral with raw anticipation, she flipped the switches on the small projector, then raced to the sofa in order to have a prime seat for the pornographic spectacle. She watched with her eyes widening as the first scene came alive before her in pure, rich color.
The opening shot was of a girl sitting stark-naked in front of her bureau. She was putting on a fire-engine-red shade of lipstick, but the camera was obviously more interested in letting the viewer see her tits. They were very large and very firm, and apparently the make-up artist for the filthy flick had seen to it that each of her bulky nipples had been touched up with rouge. They looked cherry-pink and very inviting.
"I'll bet that cute young bastard gets a hard-on every night just looking at those big boobs," Mary breathed, feeling the nipples of her own ample tits beginning to harden. "And how I wish I could be around to let him take out his oral urges on mine!"
The camera followed the pretty young girl as she got up from the bureau and strolled across to the bed. Nothing was missed of her bouncing, nude buttocks, and as she stood before the bed selecting her panties and stocking, the licentious camera lens poked slyly up between her legs for a colored close-up of her cunt.
Although Mary had never in her life had the least desire for Lesbian contact with another female, the erogenous way in which the camera was revealing the puckered, tender folds of the girl's labia, the mossy ringlets of hair tufting the outer lips of her pubescent mounds, made Mary's deeper hunger for sex almost a male's need. No wonder a man-likes to run his tongue up into something soft and hot like that, she decided. I could almost eat a young girl's pussy myself!
The girl in the movie finally put on a pair of panties designed for screwing. They were black and lacy, and the front of them was cut open so that all of her cunt was exposed. Then, to add to the shameless picture of indecent exposure, she slid her legs into a pair of sheer black stockings that barely snapped at the sides of the panties. She seemed to be undressing, instead of dressing!
Then in the same old corny way that the legitimate silent movies of Hollywood used to do, the girl put her hand to her ear to indicate that somebody was knocking at the door. So, with no bra to hold back or hide her beautiful big tits, and with her cunny in plain sight despite the gesture of having put on panties, the girl walked boldly to the door of the room and opened it.
Three grinning sailors came into the room.
At the sight of the cute young studs, who were quite obviously involved in the plot of the movie for one purpose only, Mary's already heating slit began to simmer and throb.
The camera played over the grinning, handsome faces of the three young gobs. They all looked like the boy-next-door type, clean-cut and healthy, and just for variety's sake one of them was tall, one short and muscular, and one just damned nice and slim-waisted.
Without a lot of silly to-do about introductions, the girl moved from one willing sailor to the next, feeling their pricks.
The camera followed her lewd trail, coming in for good close-ups each time her fingers squeezed the growing lumps in the already tight pants of the three able seamen.
Mary felt the meaty lips of her pussy opening hotly as the sailors allowed the girl to tease their cocks hard. Each rub and stroke of the girl's wanton fingers made the sheathed pricks stiffen and push out until they were outlined from head to balls. And all three of them seemed to have horse-sized dongs, the kind of seagoing cocksmen that can make getting shipwrecked on a lonely island the answer to an old maid's prayers.
The girl was getting hot and bothered herself from feeling the promising trio of sailorly hard-ons, and without so much as a blush she unbuttoned the pants of the tall sailor and hauled out his large prick. It looked like a python in her small hands, and the camera gave the viewer an obliging close-up of the way she was stimulating the big cock by squeezing it lightly between her fingers from the hairy root to the bursting head.
Then, when she had the lucky sailor's penis standing out from between his legs as hard as a wagon tongue, she knelt in front of him and closed her lovely red lips gently over the enormous head of it.
"God..." Mary moaned, watching intently as the girl slowly and hungrily sucked on the cute sailor's oversized prick. The already jumbo peter seemed to grow even larger and longer as the warm mouth of the beautiful girl slid back and forth over the length of it. The camera moved in for a mercilessly detailed view of the thick veins along the side of the stiff dick, showing the way the size of it puffed out the cheeks of the sucking girl and showing the wet trails of her saliva that was wetting even his pubic hair.
Mary couldn't stand to watch any more of such lusty stuff without soothing the mad itch that was eating away just inside her own cunt. With a savage need to get at her itch, she pulled her panties down to her ankles, hoisted one foot lewdly up on the sofa, and began to finger her velvety pussy with a dreamy in-and-out motion. Each time she pushed, she felt her finger worming a bit deeper into the slack folds of her twat, and sliding back out a whole lot wetter.
The business on the movie screen was just getting into high gear. While the girl had been servicing the tall sailor with her mouth, the other two young mariners had been moved to take off their clothes. And now the camera was showing the quartet engaged in very pleasurable poses indeed. The tall sailor was getting to the end of his capacity to hold back his sperm, and he was showing it in the most honest way possible. He was bluntly fucking the willing mouth of his pretty helper, driving his enormous prick down her throat with every horny thrust.
While the girl was getting her windpipe reamed, the muscular sailor was on his hands and knees having fun with her buttocks and cunt. By lying on his back and forcing her to squat on his face, he was eating her frothy slit for all he, she, and it were worth! And to facilitate getting his tongue as far up her pussy as nature would allow, he had both his hands cupped deep into the smooth flesh of her ass-cheeks, like a hungry boy eating a juicy watermelon.
The third sailor, his jocko prick as hard as bronze, was sucking on her tits, going from one to the other until her nipples were pointing out like duck-bills, beet-red and gleaming.
Mary's finger worked faster and faster in the sappy hotness of her starved cunt. She could feel her clitoris growing up through the folds of her labia like a fang-wet, red, erected. With each yearning wriggle of her finger, she let out a little gasping grunt of lust. Christ, what she wouldn't give for a prick right now-for just one of those well-hung swabbie to crawl on her fiery thighs and fuck her crazy!
As if in answer to her pagan passions, she heard a muffled groan of male arousal.
The closet door on the far side of the small trailer sagged open in front of her horrified, titillated stare-and out staggered the biggest, broadest-shouldered blonde she had ever seen.
And what he had swinging between his naked legs was made for the movies!