Chapter 3
When Bill James stumbled up the stairs to his front door, it was well after ten p.m. He wasn't having trouble walking because he'd drunk too much liquor. Bill's problem was that he'd fucked too much. He had a case of the lover's ache in his balls.. . a near-terminal case. It was his own damn fault, too, he knew. If he'd been able to control himself, to keep from going around a third time on the blonde's tight rectum, he wouldn't have been in the fix he was in. But he just couldn't help himself. He knew that a chance like that, with a really beautiful woman only comes once in a lifetime.
Even as he turned his key in the lock, he was remembering what it felt like to fuck up between her round butt-cheeks, to watch his big, thick, fleshy cock glide in and out through the horribly distended little hole. The thought made his cock flex, which, in turn, made his balls hurt like all holy hell.
"Uhhh," he groaned softly, pushing the door inward.
He'd no sooner shuffled into the wreck of his living room than his lovely young wife came rushing into his arms. She was wearing a shorty, see-through negligee and her full, pink-tipped breasts bobbled delightfully under the black nylon as she raced towards him.
"Oh, Bill! Bill, I was so worried!! " Connie moaned, locking her arms about his waist and mashing her soft breasts into his stomach.
Bill just stood there frozen in place. It wasn't the kind of welcome he'd thought he'd get from her. He'd expected Connie to be crying, yelling, spitting flames at him for being so late, for not calling her. As he put his hand to the small of her back and slipped it down over the jutting, womanly swell of her saucy buttocks, he realized that she wasn't wearing any panties. This certainly was a surprise!
The feel of her resilient ass mounds, her silky smooth skin under the slithery nylon, made his cock flex again. His balls automatically tightened.
"Uhhhh," he groaned.
Connie took her face from against his chest and looked up at him. "Are you all right?" she asked, breathlessly. "You didn't have an accident or anything, did you?"
Bill couldn't meet her eyes. The easiest way out of the situation was to lie, though, so he did. "I had a close call," he said, gently unclasping her hands from around his back and pushing her back so that the luscious mounds of her breasts were not rubbing incitefully into his belly.
"God!" Connie exclaimed. "God, I knew it!"
"I've got to sit down," he said, slipping past her and dropping back down on the plastic covered sofa. He stared at his hands, hating himself for having lied in the first place, for now having to weave an even more complicated web.
Connie could sense her husband's unease. She refused to give in to the urge to fall apart. After all, she'd patiently waited all that time for him to come home, refusing to let herself get angry, telling herself that all that mattered was that she and Bill get back together, that they make wild, frantic love as never before. Love, she knew, could heal all their differences, could make them one again.
She took a seat on the couch beside him and put her hand on his broad knee. "Do you want to talk about it?" she said.
Bill did not want to talk about it, but he had no choice. If he refused to elaborate on his "near-accident," he knew his wife would never give him any peace. The bitter irony of the situation was not lost on him. There he sat, his balls aching so bad he could hardly stand it from the multiple orgasms he'd had at the mouth, cunt and ass of a strange woman, a woman he'd been forced to seek out because his pretty young wife didn't like sex . . . and his wife, suddenly awakened sexually, suddenly willing, hungry for fucking sat at his side. He couldn't have fucked again if his life depended on it! Everything was so screwed up that it pained him to think about it.
"I had to work late," he began.
"But I called your office," Connie interrupted, "and they said you'd left at five."
Bill winced. "That's right," he said. "I had to go over to a client's place. He kept me busy right up until nine. There wasn't any time to call if I ever hoped to get out of there. On the way home on the freeway, one of those glass company trucks, the kind with the racks on the side that hold big panes of glass, took a turn too fast and I guess the glass wasn't strapped down right. Anyway, a huge plate glass pane fell off the truck and glass went every which way. Cars were plowing into each other trying to avoid the glass and cars were plowing through it, getting blow outs, then going out of control. It was awful!"
Connie was really stunned. His story was preposterous, of course, but she wanted so much to believe it, so much not to believe that he'd been with another woman.
Bill was looking at her strangely, as if gauging the success of his big lie. In a way, he didn't want her to believe him, he wanted her to tell him he was full of it.
Bill felt an awful guilt over what he'd done that evening, a guilt that he hadn't had a hint of until he'd seen his wife's lovely face. Before he'd walked into the house, into her warm smooth arms, he'd thought that it'd been the blonde who'd been degraded, that he'd been the aggressor, the ravisher, but now he realized that just the opposite was true. He had submitted to her, submitted himself to her perverted lusts, degraded himself repeatedly fucking her up the ass. And even more painful to him than the knowledge that he'd shamed himself, was the certainty that he'd tainted Connie as well, that he'd debased their relationship by his actions.
"Bill, honey, I'm so glad that you're all right," she said, slipping her arms around him again, hugging him to her svelte breasts. 'That's all that matters."
He grimaced. He wanted to confess his wrong-doing to her, to get it off his chest, but something was making him hold back. Fear? Fear that she'd leave him?
"I've been wanting to get you all to myself like this for so long," Connie said, nuzzling her supple breasts into his side. "We haven't shared anything, Bill, not really, for a couple of months. I need you so much."
Bill opened his mouth, the much-repeated words automatically coming to his tongue, but he couldn't say them. He couldn't tell her for the hundredth time that he was too busy at the office, too much pressure there for him to be able to think about sex with her. Sex, that's what she meant by "sharing" something. She meant out and out fucking and for the past two months, he'd been too busy fucking other women to bother with her, with her needs.
"There, there," he said, patting her on the shoulder.
"I need to know that you need me, too," she said, her eyes full of desperation.
Bill looked across the living room at the jagged hole in the wall. "One hell of a mess," he said.
"What?"
"The wall," he said, lying again. "The wall is a total wreck."
"I don't care about the wall," Connie told him, her fingers sliding up the inside of his thigh, up over the long, rubbery length of his flaccid cock. She gave his penis a tender squeeze. "All I care about is you."
Bill fought back the urge to moan as his cock flexed against her grip. He couldn't spring another hard on! His cock would split in two! His balls would shrivel up like raisins in their hairy bag!
"This feels good, doesn't it, Bill?" she asked, moving her fingers up and down over the length of the twitching rod. "I haven't forgotten how to make you happy, have I?"
He'd jumped out of the frying pan right into the fire. If he told her it hurt like hell, she would take it wrong, think she was clumsy, incompetent. If he told her that, it would hurt her feelings something terrible. But if he told her the truth, that his balls ached because he'd just got through ass-fucking another woman, she'd go right through the ceiling.
"Of course, it feels good," he said, clenching his teeth, turning his head to the side so she couldn't see the pained expression on his face.
"Oooh, and it's getting bigger!" she cried enthusiastically, working her fingers faster, pulling, tugging on the thickening rod jammed down the inside of his trouser leg.
She didn't have to tell Bill that. He could feel his cock hardening and with every throb, every pulse, the awful, nut-busting ache grew. It felt like his testicles were caught up in a vise and the jaws were slowly being cranked shut.
Connie, for her part, was so excited by the sight, the feel of his growing erection that she was oblivious to his discomfort. She had been dreaming about a big, thick cock for so long and there it was, right there under her fingers, hotly pulsing, eager to push up into her belly, to fill the awful emptiness of her cunt with its tremendous girth, to fill the void with his hotly sloshing cum.
"I want to see it," she cooed, unzipping his trousers and shoving her hand inside.
Bill stiffened as he felt her hot little fingers circling his turgid meat. His cock stiffened, too, and she had a heck of a time trying to get it up and out of his open fly. The main problem was that it was too hard to bend in the middle, and it positively had to bend if she was to pull it out. As she tried to squirm his penis free, her palm rubbed incitefully over the rigid shaft, sending flurries of pleasure racing down his cock. The pleasure only lasted for an instant, though. As the flurries rushed down over his balls, they were instantly translated into excruciating pain.
"Oww!" he cried, shifting his hips, lifting them up to take the strain off his bulging penis.
"Oh! I'm sorry," Connie said. "I didn't mean to be so rough. Here, let me pull your pants down, that way I won't have to bend it to get it out."
To Bill's dismay, his pretty wife wriggled his trousers down, then his underwear, and his much-used penis flipped straight up, quivering violently.
"God! I've never seen it so red!" Connie gasped. "Is something the matter with it?"
He bit his lower lip. Then, he shook his head. "It's fine, just fine," he said.
"Mmmmmm, and it's so big, too!" she said, delightedly, sliding her smooth fingers up the lust-bloated shaft, gently caressing the stony hard pillar of his manhood.
Bill shut his eyes tight. She was gripping his cock! She was starting to pump her fist up and down it, starting to slide the loose outer sheath up and down over the rock hard inner bone, the horribly aching bone.
"I need it so much, so much," she panted, anxiously shifting her thighs together as she sat next to him on the couch. Connie was getting hot, all right, hotter than a firecracker. She could feel the lips of her vagina beginning to swell, to pucker out from her mound, she could feel the heavy, pungently scented moisture of her pussy start to leak out, to smear over the insides of her thighs.
Caught up in a fantasy of her own device, Connie began to move, to do the thing that she'd dreamed of doing for months. She wanted to kiss her husband's hugely erect cock, to lick and suck it until he was as wild with excitement as she was, to taste the powerful flavor of his hot semen in her mouth, to lap daintily at the hairy, wrinkled orbs of his testicles. It was an act of total subservience on her part, a thing that both attracted and repelled her.
Bill didn't believe his eyes when he saw her lower her face to his blood-thickened penis. It was a thing she'd done before, of course, but only after much coaxing on his part. Now, she was doing it on her own, doing it as if she really wanted to feel his cock in her mouth.
She planted a moist, open-mouthed kiss right on the domed tip of his cock, playfully sliding the tip of her tongue down into his vent, then starting to shower the whole, ruddy length of his thick fleshed penis with frantic, hungry kisses. She couldn't seem to get enough of the feel of his hotly throbbing meat against her lips, her tongue, enough of the powerful, male animal smell of his loins. She kissed all the way down to his hard testicles, then back up to the snout, moaning softly the whole time.
It was only when she opened her mouth wider, when she pushed the head of his cock into her warm, wet mouth that the horror hit Bill. It didn't matter that he'd scrupulously scrubbed his cock before leaving the blonde's apartment; it didn't matter that there was no real cause for concern. All that mattered was that his pretty, innocent wife was taking the thing in her mouth, the huge cock that had so recently bored up into a tight, feminine rectum, a stranger's rectum. The thought was so vile to him, so unspeakably obscene that he couldn't bear it.
"No!! " he howled, roughly shoving her face up, pushing her greedily sucking lips from his bulbous cockhead.
Connie couldn't believe that he meant it. She thought that he was pushing her away because he thought that she really didn't want to suck him, because he thought that she was doing it to be a martyr.
"I want it, Bill," she said, her voice a rasping, gasping sound.
Before he could react, she pushed her head back down, jamming the enormous cockhead between her lips, forcing fully one third of his lengthy shaft down her throat.
"No!! ! " he snarled, his hips squirming automatically as the delicious tightness of her throat enclosed his hulking erection. "No, damn you!! " He put the edge of his palm against her forehead and shoved her off of him.
Connie struggled to maintain her position, but it was useless. He was too strong. The big, swollen knob popped from her lips, gleaming with her viscous slobber.
"What's wrong?! " she cried, the desperation in her voice as well as her eyes. "Did I do something wrong?!
Why don't you want me to have it?! ! Bill, tell me!! I want to suck you. I want to suck your big cock, but you won't let me! Why, Bill?! ! Why?! ! ! "
"You don't want to know," he said, bitterly.
"I do! I've got to know! I'm going crazy!"
Bill was suddenly filled with a kind of strange anger, an anger mostly at himself, but also at his wife, at the woman whom he felt had forced him into botching things so terribly by the years of semi-frigidity, who had driven him into the streets to look for the kind of sex he craved.
"Why can't I have it?! ! " she bawled.
Bill's cock pulsed anxiously, quivering as it stood straight up from his hairy loins. It had no brain, no conscience; it couldn't understand why he wasn't letting her go down on it, either.
"You wouldn't want it if you knew where it'd just been," he said, glaring at her.
Connie flinched as if he'd struck her full in the face. "What?" she said.
"You heard me. You heard me the first time."
A lump the size of a basketball rose in her throat. All of her fears about losing her husband, about his tom-catting around were true. There was no gentle lie to hide behind. No glass truck accident, no late night meeting with a client. Bill had been screwing another woman, screwing her with that same luridly erect penis that swayed like a hooded cobra over his hair-tufted loins.
"Bastard!" she hissed.
Bill just stared at her, looking at her like she was some kind of insect, instead of a sexy, desirable young woman.
"How could you do that to me?! ! " she sobbed.
It was the very question he had been asking himself ever since he walked into the house.
"How could you not make love to me and go out and give it all to some whore?! ! "
Bill shifted uneasily on the sofa. He wanted her to shut up, to shut up before he really let her have it. But she wouldn't or couldn't.
"What kind of a man are you?! ! " she cried, her face twisted by her fury and humiliation.
"More man than you can handle," he said, viciously. 'Too fucking much man for you, baby."
Connie stiffened.
"That's right," he went on, his anger building as he spoke, "it hurts, doesn't it? The truth hurts! I just got sick of screwing a goddam corpse once a week. I've only got one life, baby, and I'll be goddamed if I'll waste it like that."
"But, Bill.. . "
"Shut up! I don't want to hear about your sudden change of heart! All of a sudden, you wake up one morning and you discover you've got a cunt! Bull shit! You're just kidding yourself and you're not kidding me. You're a fucking cold fucking fish, Connie, and you'll always be."
If there was a tender spot, a weakness in Connie's armor, in her psyche, he had just found it, just brutally ripped into it. Her own self-doubts about herself, about her sudden urges to fuck and suck, welled up inside of her, overwhelming her.
"Get out!! " she screamed at him, jumping up from the sofa. "You get the hell out of this house! Out of my life!! " Bill glared at her, at the way she was pointing at the front door.
"I mean it, Bill!" she told him. "Get out! We're finished! Through! I want a divorce, the sooner the better."
He swallowed hard.
"If you don't get your dirty, nasty cock out of here in five seconds," she said, "I'm going to call the police and report you as a prowler."
"They'll never buy that," he said.
"No, but it'll raise one hell of a stir in the neighborhood, I guarantee that," she said. "And I know they'll kick your ass around a little for me, if I ask them real nice."
Bill shook his head. He doubted whether the cops would rough him up; he doubted that they'd keep him from staying in his own house, but that wasn't the point. The point was, he didn't want to stay with Connie, not any more. He wanted to go as badly as she wanted him to go. He wanted out from under the guilt, away from her accusing stare.
"All right," he said, slowly rising to his feet, carefully pushing his tender, rapidly softening penis back into the front of his trousers. "All right, I'll go."
"You can go back to your whore, think on the bright side," she snapped.
"I didn't want it to be like this," he said as he opened the door.
"That's a laugh," she said, bitterly.
"No, I mean it, Connie," he told her. "Somehow things just got all mixed up, our lines got crossed somewhere."
Connie could tell that he was trying to make up to her and she wouldn't have it. He'd betrayed her and she couldn't stand the sight of him.
"Get out, you worm!" she shouted at the much-bigger man. She gave him a shove that caught him off-balance, that sent him staggering back through the open door. "And don't ever come back!! "
Connie slammed the door so hard in his face that all the windows in the house rattled in their frames.