Chapter 2
Loud, bombastic acid-rock music poured through the house. Jill danced like a go-go girl all about, feeling extremely free, uplifted. John had called to say that he would not be home until late that night. At first she was bitterly downcast, and then she got out a bottle of Scotch and fixed herself a little pick up. After two more strong ones she didn't care if John would ever come home.
"Do it, do it, do it, do it!" she sang wildly. She had not heard the doorbell ring the first several times, and it was only after the loud knocking that she snapped from the heady trance and found her way to the front door.
"Mrs. Simmons," the young man said bashfully.
"Why, Phil! How are you?"
"I just came by to tell you how it came out and to thank you for your very kind treatment."
"Come in, Phil, please."
"No, I'd better not, Mrs. Simmons."
"What's happened, anyway, Phil? What did they do about your case?"
"Oh, just about what we expected. Willie and I are suspended from Dr. Simmons's class with F's. It doesn't matter all that much about me, but Willie gets the ax from the team, too. Man, that's about to drive me crazy. But I wanted you to know that just having you to talk to helped me."
"Why, you poor dear," she sighed. "You're all overwrought. I insist that you come in a minute."
"No, ma'am, I couldn't..."
"I insist!"
And she was pulling him in by the arm and leading him to the living room. For the moment she was able to keep her balance well; the thought of what her husband had done seemed to sober her a bit into depression and sympathy.
She noticed that he was looking at her legs again; the little boy blue eyes scanned down her figure again, tracing the tapering legs, studying the finely proportioned thighs in the short shorts. Again today she wore no bra, and she smiled to see him drinking in the tautness of her breasts.
"Well, Phil, how will all this affect your plans for the future?"
"I really don't know. You see, I was planning to go to law school. But with cheating on my record, gee..."
"Would they really put it in your record that you cheated? That could brand you for life!"
"Your husband says that he hasn't made up his mind about that yet. He can insist, you know, that it go on my transcript. Jesus, sometimes I feel just like pulling out of college and joining the Army."
"Good lord," she stammered. "Don't think about that. You poor dear. I feel so damn sorry for you."
"Don't feel sorry for me, Mrs. Simmons. I guess I really deserved it all. That's just the way it goes."
"Well, it makes me damn mad, Phil!" she snapped out, the liquor in her serving to stir her ire up even more. "To me it's all a farce. Just a goddamn farce! I don't think John has the right to decide your whole future! It makes me sick."
He just shook his head; his eyes came back to her abundant cleavage and rested there in consolation. Their gazes met and they shared a long dreamy stare. His blue eyes fluttered finally and he dropped his head boyishly.
"Hell, it's so depressing. At least we can change the mood," she sang. She got up and danced to the stereo and turned the records over. Soon more acid-hot music piped through the house. She stood at the stereo a moment, rotating her hips to the rhythm and tossing her head. When she came back he was smiling broadly at her.
"You really are cool, Mrs. Simmons," he said. "That's great music. I didn't think any faculty members or their wives were that groovy."
"Oh, those are my records. John hates it. He's just as square as all the others, I'm afraid. Bach and Chopin and a little tossed salad for dinner. Ugh."
He laughed again and she danced over and sat down beside him. Her half-finished drink was on the end table and she grabbed it and downed the remainder with much gusto. In leaning over she brushed her boobs across his arm, held them there a minute, and mashed them a bit into his side.
"Say, listen," she brightened. "Let me fix you a little drink."
"No, thank you, Mrs. Simmons. I don't drink. I'm in training. Or I was in training, I should say. I'm not on the team any longer either."
"Damn, what a bummer," she sighed. "If you're not on the team, then a little drink wouldn't hurt. I was feeling low today myself. I usually don't drink at all. Let's say we've both got something to celebrate, in reverse."
"No, I'd better not," he demurred.
"Again, Phil, I'm going to insist. Come on, man, let yourself go. Got to keep a sense of humor. All that rot."
"You are a very remarkable person, Mrs. Simmons," he stammered, his eyes openly following her moving figure.
"And please call me Jill, will you?"
She brought back two tall Scotch-and-waters and sat down on the floor in front of him. He was smiling all the time now and that made her feel good; at least she could cheer up somebody in the world. It had been a long time since she had been with someone so young and vibrant. Being a college professor's wife takes years off you immediately, they had told her, and she felt extremely young now. She was happy that John had called.
He sipped his drink cautiously and looked down at her. She seemed to be dancing, moving to the hot beat even as she sat there. Her blouse was open at the top and he could not help but see down into the lower region. Occasionally she bent over and he could see the whole shape of her lovely breasts-they were large, larger than one might imagine, and the fine strawberry tips were like hard ball bearings against the cloth. He gulped his drink and kept looking.
Occasionally she swayed over and touched his knees; her long blond hair dangled down almost to the floor, and she shook it from side to side. She drank most of her Scotch as she sat there looking all around, avoiding his glance. She saw him moving his haunches from side to side uncomfortably, and there at his crotch, only inches away, she saw the outline of his cock. It was swelling up more and more and it made him embarrassed. She put back her head and laughed deliciously "What are you laughing about-" he asked.
"Getting hot in here, isn't it, Phil?" she giggled.
"I'll say. Wow..."
"Are you still thinking about that mess?"
"A little, I guess," he stammered. "You poor dear."
She bent over, resting her arms on his knees, and put her head down there. His crotch was only inches away from her face: her hair was touching it. He was trembling, she could tell; she felt the blood throbbing all through his being. She laughed again.
"Do we dare, Phil?"
Her eyes met his for a very long moment. His face was distorted with mixed emotions; he was staring in the face of a beautiful dilemma. She patted his knee to break the spell and smiled sincerely.
"Nothing uptight, Phil. Okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, it doesn't matter. Listen, I may not have gone to college. I don't have a degree in psychology or anything, but I've read a lot. You'd be surprised what you pick up in those square ladies' magazines. Situational ethics, I think that's what they call it now. I was thinking-people ought to follow their instincts."
"You are a remarkable person, Mrs. Simmons."
"Jill, please."
"Jill, then."
"Phil. Wow, we rhyme ..."
She took his hand and placed it on her knee. The skin was warm and soft and creamy; his fingers actually shook, but he didn't take the hand away. She looked at him again, scanned down to his crotch where the huge cock was now at full mast.
"We met by chance, Phil. We're here today because we share some same feelings. You might even call us buddies. Phil, will you be my buddy?"
"Sure... sure, Mrs. Simmons."
She lay back as though she were about to float in water. Keeping his hand in hers, she pulled him easily, and then they were together on the carpet. His head came down slowly and their eyes locked again. His mouth came upon hers.
It was a tender probing kiss of young lovers; his lips were firm but not brusque and his mouth strong; only their lips met at first and then the mouths widened and their tongues came together. It became a long kiss, and his arms went around her to clasp her very tight. She felt the breath go out of her at his strength; now they were drinking each other's very being in the extended kiss. His hand came up to cup her large breast. She moved a bit and he lay squarely upon her.
"Oh, God," he said first.
"Beautiful," she smiled.
She reached up and began unbuttoning the blouse and soon she was lying naked to the waist, warmly meshed against his virile body. She ran her hands across his strong back and down his wide shoulders. All the feel of him made her flush with the warmth of a hot summer day. He kissed her neck then, sucking little tingles along the throat and down to her downy shoulders. His hands cupped her breasts, tried to encompass all of them in two palms; he groped and groped for them and kneaded the firm flesh over and over.
"How do you feel?" she panted slightly.
"Strange."
"Want to stop?"
"No, yes ... I don't know ..."
"Will it make you feel bad?" she sighed.
"I don't know now ... maybe."
"Sex is hell, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"No. Sex is great-love is hell."
"Will you do me a favor, Phil?"
"What?"
"I'm horny."
Because of the booze and the swinging mood, she felt no tinge of regret or guilt; it seemed beautifully appropriate that she should be living thus on a carpet with a strong young man who was sensitive and considerate and humble. John had said that this Phil Evans was an operator, and how true he was, only in a different sense.
She stood up and breathed deeply. The white breasts rose up to perfect mounds, round and white milky moons. He stood, bent over, and took a moon into his mouth, sucked the tip until it was burning hot and hard between his teeth. His hand circled her waist and clasped her close; the hand moved down the slope of her back and into the shorts to cup the rubbery-hard buttocks. He mashed his body against hers and she felt the hard swell of his cock against her thighs. She surged her own thighs against him and they ground their lower regions urgently.
"I'm going to take it out," she whispered. She unzipped his fly and reached inside. The throbbing cock jumped at her touch; she rubbed the head of it and it was very moist. She brought the penis out of his pants and it stuck straight out; the young man looked away, almost in embarrassment.
"It's beautiful," she smiled.
She toyed with it in such a way that an excess of liquid emitted from the tiny opening in the head. Up and down on the velvety head she massaged his cock; he bent, breathing heavily, and bit her on the neck hard, his hands never leaving the swollen breasts.
"God, Mrs. Simmons, you gonna make me..."
"Could I?"
She slid down his hard body, pulling the pants open and drawing them down around his knees with her. Now she clasped his middle with her arms, ran her hands onto his tight-muscled buttocks, and stroked in the mat of hair there at his dividing. Quickly she bent and put her lips to the head of the cock; it throbbed violently at her sensitive touch and he pushed it a little way onto her face. She let the massive instrument play all about her face, upon her lips and chin, across her cheeks, down onto her neck where she hugged it tightly. And then she drew back and held the cock with both hands. She brought her mouth upon it and savored the head with her wet tongue. His body shuddered violently against her nakedness. Now she was working the cock strongly with a plunging motion; in and out, letting the head dart partially into her throat, controlling his surging motion now, licking the length of it each time.
"I'm gonna shoot off..." he stammered.
On that signal she began to work frantically but rhythmically upon the pushing rod. Letting go one hand, she reached underneath him and caught his drawn balls; she massaged the muscle there and the main vein leading to the penis, all the while scratching in the mass of pubic hair.
"Jesus, that's great," he groaned.
Her mouth worked back and forth in a wide open motion, making a slippery, gushing sound. Time and again she felt the blood-gorged bulb of the cock jam into her throat and back out. She gulped hard and felt the cock grow steamy hot. All the while she squeezed at his buttocks with one hand and milked his taut balls with the other.
"Oh, Jesus, I'm shooting off!" he bellowed. He tried to pull completely away from her frantic mouth, lest she catch the oncoming eruption. But she would not release him. On and on she worked, feeling her whole being about to explode along with his moiling lava.
And then it hit-suddenly, like a huge bulb exploding, showering the world with rainbow color. The huge prod began pumping furiously and she felt the first wave of hot sperm in her mouth. Lap after lap of it gushed then into her mouth and down into her throat. She worked furiously, clenching her teeth now upon that erupting cock and holding her mouth fast upon it.
"My living God!" he barked, shaking entirely. "Oh, my God! Awwwwwwwwww!"
She gulped the sperm on and on until he was finally empty of all his vital juices. She locked her mouth on the cock and ran her tongue all up and over and around as she swallowed the last of the cream. Not for a moment during the eruption had she opened her eyes. She did not want the dick ever to leave her mouth, but she felt such a hot upsurge in her unfulfilled cunt that she visibly shook all over.
She held him steady until they were both laying back on the carpet. His hands encircled her bulging hips and stroked her firm ass tenderly. She was gasping for breath in her heated state and now he seemed to realize her needful state.
"Mrs. Simmons ... I'm sorry ... my God how I'd love to fuck you ... God, it drives me crazy seeing you lying here ... that beautiful body..."
Unconsciously she began hunching her pussy upon his arm. She was burning up now. Just having this beautiful young body to play with excited her tremendously. She knew it was all wrong but she couldn't help it. She hunched harder and moaned softly, hoping somehow that he could do something to help her.
"God, I'm sorry, Mrs. Simmons ... but I can't ... I mean it won't get hard right away..."
He sighed in frustration and looked down at his spent rod. Her eyes were closed and she was clutching at him desperately. Her pussy felt like a scalding pelt of wet fur. He seemed at a loss; he simply held her shuddering box with his hands and let it hunch against his bare leg.
"Touch it, oh God touch it!" she demanded.
Quickly he reached down and spread her legs wide. He almost gasped at the sight of her strong mound of hair and flesh. It was beautiful and fully ready to be fucked, and he cursed himself now for not stopping her halfway through her suck job. But now he went to work on that hot pussy in earnest. She gaped her legs far apart and he dug in deep with two fingers. The fingers slid easily into the hot red meat-he splayed them apart at first and worked in a rotation pattern, letting the heavy lather of her vagina soak up the cunt walls. Jesus, he thought, she was as ripe as a honeydew and ready to be plugged.
"Finger it! Finger it!" she cried. "Yes, I need something in my pussy! Don't hold back! Fuck it with your hand!"
Now she was riding her hips and buttocks up high on his driving hand. He managed to get another finger in the expanding love hole. Hot juicy stuff poured all around in her cunt and ran out into the palm of his working hand. She moaned and clasped her long legs around his waist as he bent over and continued to give her a mock fuck.
"Is that okay?" he asked, working his hand as though he were pumping up a tire. "Do you like that, Mrs. Simmons?"
"Yes, hell yes! Only deeper! Stick it in deeper!"
He rammed with all his might and could feel her cunt walls throbbing. He ticked at the little stub of clitoris with his thumb as he finger-fucked on. Her powerful blows against his hand amazed him; she didn't seem so strong and responsive. He brought his other hand around behind her and grasped her hard fanny. With one hand in front and one behind, he held her box firmly now and continued to pour it on with the pronged fingers.
"Deeper! It's gotta be deeper!" she barked.
"That's all, baby, it won't go any deeper. And my dick is getting hard again, but it's not hard enough ... hold on, baby, hold on ..."
"I gotta have it, I tell you! Forgive me, but I can't stand it! You're burning me up! Oh, what you do to me! Ram it in deeper! Split me open!"
If only the goddamn dick would come alive, he cursed himself. Sharp pains shot through his arms from holding her off the floor and bearing the weight of her luscious thighs. He looked around and suddenly caught sight of the artificial banana on the carpet a few feet away. That would do it, he thought, but would she want it? Goddamn, could it be that she was banana fucking herself just as he came in? He kept on finger fucking her but he began to tug them a few inches along the carpet. She didn't know what he was doing but she didn't care: all she wanted was to get the frenzied cunt of hers full of something. He milked her ass with his hand, ran a reaming finger into her pert little ass each time he plunged the fingers of the other hand. After several seconds he had succeeded in moving them backwards almost a yard.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed. He had massaged her clitoris to a state of climax and now she was having a clitoral orgasm hard against his plunging fingers. He felt the skin of his fingers burning from all the friction of her bumping loins. She screamed on but wanted much more, and he could tell that one peak had finished and another was beginning. The movement along the floor had only served to make her more frenzied.
"I'm coming a hundred times! Keep fucking it, oh, keep fucking it! Awwwwwwwwwwwww!"
And now he had reached the banana. He slipped his hand out of her cunt then. At the loss she swooned and fell over and threw her legs wide apart. Even the gaping pussy seemed to moan for something. Her hips gave a tremendous leap upward, trying to ensnare anything. He held the banana a second, brought it down even with the lurching pussy, and fixed it at the lips of her love hole.
Immediately the blond beauty of her cunt grabbed for the blunt instrument. In a second she was arching her loins on up higher, taking the artificial phallus fully inside for two or three inches. In all, the plastic object must have been ten inches long. He held it firm then and looked intently at her face, wanting to make sure that she knew what this was all about. She jerked backward and heaved for more of the deadly object; her eyes popped open and she looked at him fiercely, in the throes of erotic desire.
"God, Phil, shove it in! I need it! Oh, I'm sorry, but I need it! Please, please, my pussy needs it..."
He felt his own cock stiffen up hard then. He thought that he would hold the banana in place only for a minute and then replace it with his own phallus. God, he wanted to fuck that blond cunt! He could feel it throughout his whole being. Never in his life had he wanted a woman more; he had been horny before and had had his share of snapping young pussy, but this was entirely new, entirely different-this was a fully mature woman who knew all there was to know about balling. The thought of her wanting to be fucked by the artificial prick stirred him up more than anything. He felt all his blood swirling in his veins as he looked down and saw the bright yellow object sinking into the juicy blond hole.
"I want to fuck you!" he barked then.
"Too late! Too late! Oh, Phil, fuck me, yes! But fuck me with that first! Please don't take it out! If you take it out, I'll die! Fuck me, oh fuck me with that yellow thing!"
She flashed her arms up and around and grabbed his hands with hers, guiding the yellow phallus. With her hands on his she shoved the firm, pliable object down deep. She let out a distorted groan that changed into a moan as it touched the entrance of her womb. She lay back then, as in a trance, and held his hands firmly above her pussy and on the end of the artificial device.
"Oh, God," she cried. "It's awful ... but I want it... I'm rotten ... rotten to the core..."
"No, you're not," he said softly. "You're great. You're the most exciting woman I've ever met."
"Please, don't talk ... just ... do it to me..."
She hunched her hips upon the rod to signal him. With both hands on the yellow device, he began to pull it up and push it back down carefully. The first two or three times caused her to moan and flail her hips about. She grabbed him around the waist with her legs and locked them firmly. The phallus had not gone all the way in yet; each time that he pulled it up and delivered it back in place he urged it just a bit deeper. Finally, at her insistence, he plunged it in as deep as it would go, letting his bunched fingers pause just at the hot and syrupy opening to her cunt.
Her fine globular ass was bouncing saucily now with each downstroke. She humped it and let it take her insides with its mashing fullness. Clearly she was taking it all without any difficulty. Once, as he pushed it rapidly, she lunged upward and ate the entire length of it. His fingers lost it for a minute and it was stuck deep in her hole. She shrieked out in a grotesque cry of wantonness. He groped until he found the end of the stick and then brought it up halfway again. She was going crazy now with wanting a full fuck.
"I'm going to come any second!" she warned. "Pour it on, oh God, fuck it fuck it fuck it!"
With a firm grip on the yellow marauder now he jacked down into her spread-eagled love cavern. He jammed and rammed it like a hot poker into a blast furnace. Her legs flapped at his sides now and she was riding upside down bronco style. His own cock was tooling so hard against his pants that he had to reach down and upzip the fly to let it get free. The cock tooled in the air wondrously and throbbed so violently that he thought he surely was going to come, too.
"I need it, I need it!" she chanted, hunching madly. "I need it I need it I need it I need it!"
He was thinking vehemently that he just had to get that yellow thing out of her wonderful pussy and get his cock where it yearned to be. He tried to pull the yellow thing all the way out, but she stopped him frantically with her hands.
"No! No!" she barked. "I'm com-inggggggggggggggggggggg She bellowed like a woman being flogged at the stake. Her whole body balled against him. Now he felt her hands on his cock down there as she continued to scream. Her hands began to mash and pull and jack his cock; she worked in the frantic rhythm of her own continuing orgasm. He tried to pull his cock away from her pumping hands, not wanting to waste his stuff this vital time. But she held on like a madwoman and jacked furiously.
"Oh, God, baby, I'm going to come! Come on, baby, let me fuck you!"
"No, it's good, it's good, it's so gooooooooooood!"
All the while she jacked his stiff prod so fast that he thought surely she would rip it out of the socket. Her bombastic orgasm stretched out beyond mere seconds-she hunched her slippery hole upon the yellow demon that he held in position only now. He felt his cock give a violent jerk and spurt a huge wad of come upon her bare stomach. The cock jerked again and shot another volley of cream, splattering upon the blond hair of her pussy.
"I'm coming!" he warned.
Deftly she hunched the yellow rod, withdrew her hot loins, and in one lightning motion hunched her cunt upon the granite-hard head of his cock. Her pussy was catching the full force of his eruption now. She was not so much letting him fuck her as she was acting as a reservoir for his plenteous lava. Four, five, six-he felt great spheres of his seed spitting down into her hot canal.