Chapter 1
One hand held his hand and the other hand held his throbbing prick. Jennifer Parker could feel his cock throbbing right through his pants. His rod felt hard and hot and lovely against her skin.
"Oh, God, I don't know," she hissed, but there was little conviction in her voice. Jennifer Parker, twenty-five-year-old brunette, was a married woman and this was the first time she'd fooled around in five years of marriage.
There was still time to back out. Holding a cock wasn't fucking it.
But she held on to his stiffening meat. She squeezed the stiff cylinder of flesh through his pants. She remembered how big it was. Cal Harding was an old boyfriend, and they'd done plenty of fucking around in high school. Now they were both married, and what had been okay when they were teenagers was now, according to society, wrong.
Jennifer had run into him on the street. His office was near by, and after they'd had a drink he'd asked her to come up here where they could be alone. They were standing in his private office.
Cal was a big man with flashing eyes that even now seemed to be undressing her. He'd been a star football player and she the head of the cheerleading squad. It was just natural that they went steady. When each had married someone else, everyone was surprised. Even now Jennifer couldn't remember why they hadn't gotten married. But she had met Harry and he'd swept her off her feet.
Thinking about Harry made her sigh with frustration. Harry Parker was a dear sweet person, and she loved him, but once he'd married her, he didn't really know what to do with her. He'd never given her what she needed in bed, and he wouldn't even try. Meanwhile she was only twenty-five and too young to be put out to pasture.
She knew she was still good-looking. She could tell by the way men looked at her when she walked down the street that her figure had stayed firm and well-toned. She didn't even have to wear a bra. Her size thirty-six, C tits stood up firm without one. She wore one, though. Harry thought it was indecent not to.
Sex with Harry was getting worse instead of better. She practically had to beg him to fuck her lately. Then she'd run into Cal, and the way he looked at her was just what she needed He'd put her hand on his cock to prove to her how much he still dug her. That was more than Harry did. Did she owe it to her husband to be faithful, when he paid so little attention to her?
"My marriage isn't doing too well either," he said, pressing her hand against his fly. "My wife's not very interested in sex, and I can tell your husband isn't either. You hinted as much. It's true, isn't it?"
"Jennifer nodded. "Yes," she whispered.
"Well then you owe it to yourself to have a little outside fun, don't you?"
She shrugged. "Oh, God, I don't know!"
Grinning, he pulled her into his arms. "I'll make the decision for both of us," he chuckled.
They wrapped their arms around each other, their mouths pressed together in a hot kiss. Jennifer felt her pussy moisten as he plunged his tongue in and out of her warm wet mouth.
She whimpered when he put one hand over her tits, fondling and squeezing one big globe after the other. He'd always had a wonderful touch, and he hadn't changed. She pressed against his body, purring under his tender caress.
He put her hand back on his prick. "Open my fly and bring it out," he said. "Touch my cock. It's been a long time, Jennifer. You're still a damn exciting woman."
She squirmed in his arms. "Here?" she said. "Won't someone walk in?"
"I locked the door," he said. "Next time we'll go to a motel. Now we'll just have to improvise. Come on, baby, put your hand on my rod."
He pulled her down on the small leather sofa, and opened his fly. She wrapped her fingers around his seven-inch fuckpole. How good it felt!
"Get your pants down!" he hissed. "We can have a quick fuck now. It'll hold us till next time!"
"We can't do that here!" she hissed. "Jesus, Cal!"
"At least suck me off," he grinned. "You can't leave me like this. I won't be able to show my face around this office."
She looked at his big hard-on and giggled. He was right. She'd have to bring it down somehow. She remembered plenty of nights when Cal would shoot his load down her throat. She licked her lips at the recollection. She wouldn't mind sucking his big lollipop right now.
Harry never let her suck his prick. He didn't think it was sanitary. She sighed, realizing what a dull life she'd been leading.
"Hey, remember me?"
She looked down and saw Cal's cock rearing up like a huge purple club, hard and throbbing. A drop of clear cockjuice brimmed in his piss-hole. His cockhead looked like a fat ripe plum just waiting to be sucked. His balls were big and bloated and hairy, and he pumped his crotch at her face.
"Curl your tongue around my prick," he chuckled. "Like you did in the good old days."
She knew he would want to come in her mouth and she salivated at the prospect. She shivered at the thought of his thick fuck-cream sliding down her throat. It had been a long time since she'd swallowed a load of jism, and she was hungry for it.
Now she closed her hand over his cock, lightly pumping his fuckpole and thrilled at the way it throbbed under her fingers.
"Baby, come on," he said. "Suck it, don't look at it!"
She got down between his knees on the carpet and touched her lips to the tip of his cock. She sucked up the little drop of fuck-cream and then opened her mouth wide and slowly engulfed the juicy knob of his prick.
He slumped down on the sofa, pushing his crotch at her face, "Oh, shit, that feels wonderful, baby!" he groaned. "Sweet mouth!"
It felt wonderful on her end, too. She'd fogotten how thrilling it was to give head, to have her mouth stuffed with good stiff cock. Now she gobbled up his cockmeat inch by inch, the ring of her lips moving down the entire length of his cockshaft until his crotch hair tickled her nose.
She had his whole fuckpole down her throat. His cockhead was lodged against her windpipe and she savored the feel of his thick cylinder of meat in her mouth.
She no longer thought about Harry and the fact that she was cheating on him. She didn't care. It served him right for not filling her needs.
She purred over Cal's fuckmeat. She wanted to drain his balls. The musky aroma of his male scent permeated her nostrils and made her pussy cream. Cuntjuice dripped down her thighs and soaked her panties.
She moved a hand down to his balls and began squeezing the bloated nuts as she bobbed her head back and forth on his pulsating cock. She felt more feminine than she had in years. Women were supposed to do this. Nature had intended it. And she had a husband who wouldn't give it to her.
"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna shoot off!" he grunted, shoving his prick down her throat.
She continued sucking and he grunted, blasting a thick wad of jism down her throat. Spurt after spurt of rubbery fuck-cream splashed over her tongue and cascaded down her throat. She gulped and swallowed, trying to capture every drop of his sweet cream. She fondled his balls, coaxing every drop of jism out of his eggs.
She continued sucking even after his prick was soft, and he finally had to pull his cock out of her mouth.
"God, what a hot little number you are!" he croaked.
She moved back up on the sofa, her cheeks pink and her eyes glittering. "Just like old times," she smiled.
"Yeah, just like old times. Now you better get your cute little ass out of here so I can do some work."
Jennifer went home and started dinner. She began to make all of Harry's favorite dishes, realizing she was compensating. She felt guilty. No matter what, she didn't like cheating on her husband. She didn't know how she would solve the problem, but she knew something had to give. Either her marriage had to improve, or she would continue to cheat and stop feeling guilty. The third alternative, breaking up her marriage, was too awful to consider. She slid Harry's favorite pie in the oven and wiped her hands. From now on things would be different. They had to be.
Meanwhile she thought about Cal. They had a date to go to a motel when he returned from a business trip. He was vague about when that would be. She felt a little uneasy about that. She'd been hoping to see him again soon. She told herself it didn't matter. If she got desperate enough for sex, she'd find someone else.
What a slut I've become! she thought.
She took a quick shower and put on fresh make-up. She used a big towel to dry herself, preening in front of full-length mirror and admiring her body.
Her tits were full and round with large pink nipples. She had full round asscheeks and a thick bush of cunt hair. Her legs were slender and long.
She hefted her tits, pulling at her nipples and making them stiff and hard. She ran her fingertips in her cunt bush and gyrated her hips lewdly.
She turned around and looked at the curve of her ass, still holding her boobs in her hands. She had a luscious body. A body made for love. A body made for fucking.
She slid a hand over her belly and fingered her cuntlips. Her pussy was swollen and wet. She'd been terribly turned on by sucking Cal off, but she hadn't come. She tried to decide if she had time to masturbate before Harry got home. She masturbated constantly when he was at the office. If she didn't bring herself off, she'd go crazy.
She decided to make the time. She'd never get through the night without an orgasm. It wasn't Saturday night or a holiday, so Harry probably wouldn't be in the mood.
She got a jar of hand lotion out of the bathroom and got into bed. She lubricated her pussy and her thighs, pulling her legs up to her tits and opening her thighs wide.
She thought about Cal Harding and his prick. She recalled sucking his cock and swallowing down his load of thick jism. She rubbed her clit with a circular motion, pretending it was Cal's finger on her quivering bean.
She fantasized that Cal was next to her on the bed, watching her play with her pussy. Harry wouldn't let her play with her cunt in front of him. He thought it was perverted. He even thought it was perverted for a married woman to masturbate.
She reached into the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a candle she sometimes used for masturbating. She shoved the thick wax up her gash. It felt wonderful! It was as thick as a good-sized cock, and it stretched her cuntlips wonderfully wide. She moved it in and out with one hand, slowly fucking her cunt, while she used her other hand to rub her clit.
She gyrated her hips and thought about the afternoon with Cal. She wondered when he'd call her. She plunged the candle in and out of her slick cunt, feeling an orgasm rise in her crotch.
She rubbed her clit harder and faster now, gasping for breath and almost at the brink, when she heard the front door open and close. Harry was home.
Oh, shit! she thought. Shit! Some days it just didn't pay to get up!
She pulled the candle out of her cunt and got out of bed. Quickly tying a robe around her waist, she went to the living room and greeted her husband.
Harry Parker was only thirty-one. He was an intense man, much more serious-minded than Jennifer. His work was very important to him, and everything else was secondary. He had a good sense of humor, but he saw life through serious eyes.
Sitting down to dinner, Jennifer wondered if she shouldn't have married someone less intense. Whenever they had a fight, he accused her of being frivolous. Actually she wasn't at all frivolous. She just didn't believe life should be taken too seriously.
She asked him how his day went. He shrugged, mumbling something about business being slow. She tried to get him to relax, teasing him and making silly jokes, but he didn't respond. He seemed to be a million miles away tonight, and she finally gave up and began clearing the dishes.
When she was finished with the dishes she joined him in the living room. "Can I interest you in a little middle-of-the-week fuck?" she smiled.
He stared at her over his newspaper. She felt foolish now, and pretended she was kidding. She settled back with a magazine, feeling horny and irritable. She needed fucking, and she needed it badly. This she knew beyond a doubt. Harry had his work, but all she had was the house and sex, and the house didn't do much for her cunt.
She toyed with the idea of getting a job. Harry had always been against it. He believed a man should take care of his wife. They didn't need the money, but she felt bored out of her mind. Right now her pussy pulsated and creamed, and she couldn't even masturbate with Harry home.
"Aren't you happy, Jennie?" he asked, a sad smile on his face.
She shuddered slightly, filled with love for this man who didn't really understand her. "Oh, honey, I'm happy," she said. "It isn't that. It's ... oh, nothing, it's just one of those days. I'll get over it."
"If you really want to make love, I'm willing," he said. "I'm not promising anything, but I'll try."
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Telling him she'd be right back, she dashed into the bedroom to make herself sexy for him.
She tore off the robe she was wearing and put on a filmy black negligee. She sprayed herself from head to toe with his favorite perfume, concentrating on her inner thighs, and her cunt bush.
She brushed out her long dark hair and then decided to comb it into one long thick braid, the way Harry liked it. When she was through she put on black high heeled mules and surveyed her image in the mirror.
She looked sexy. She looked good enough to eat, if she had to say so. Not that Harry ever ate her. He used to, before they were married. Talk about women changing after marriage! Jennifer could write another book. Harry had been after her all the time before they were married. He just couldn't get enough pussy. Oh, well, now wasn't the time to dwell on that.
She touched her cunt and felt the slippery wetness pouring out of her cunthole. Just like a bitch in heat, she thought. She caressed herself for a moment, pulling at her nipples and rubbing her wet cuntmeat. She would come with one or two strokes of his prick tonight. Even if Harry shot off right away, she'd get off. She was turned on from the afternoon with Cal.
A shiver of guilt shot up her spine. Then she decided to stop castigating herself. Everyone's entitled to one mistake, after all.
Adding some lip gloss to her generous mouth, she pranced back to the living room. She walked in smiling, but her smile quickly turned to a frown, and the frown to a feeling of depression deep in her gut.
The son-of-a-bitch was snoring! He was stretched out on the sofa with his mouth open and he was sleeping. Jennifer almost woke him up, but then she decided it was no use. She turned away and went back into the bedroom.
That did it! She didn't have to feel guilty anymore. He knew she wasn't being satisfied, and yet he made no effort to change. She felt totally justified now to get the fucking she needed outside of her marriage. There were plenty of men who'd be happy to service her. If Harry couldn't do the job, she'd find someone who could!
Going into the bathroom, she turned on the water full force and brought herself off with her fingers.