Chapter 6
"Carl?... Carl?" Harry banged on the door again, but only silence echoed through the seemingly empty house. Damn! Not at the office and not at home. Where the hell was he? Harry knew he could be a million places, from the grocery store to the library. It was just that Harry had things so planned out in his head about how to tell Carl about Maeve and the Admiral. Harry had to tell him, damn it. It would spoil everything if he didn't.
He kept banging, knowing it was futile. Wearily he walked back to his car and got in, leaving the door open, wondering if he should wait a while and see if Carl showed up or whether to just drive back down to Bendemeer's Stream and hope he could get Carl alone later.
A crunching of gravel on the driveway behind him sent Harry's thin neck twisting, hoping it was Carl. It wasn't. It was a gorgeous female body, tanned and luscious with mouthwatering curves covered only by the briefest of yellow bikinis. Harry shaded his eyes against the bright sun as she walked up the drive toward him, her hips swinging and her boobs bouncing almost out of the bikini bra. She was almost to him when the shade from the carport hit her and he could see it was Betty Lunsford.
"Why, Harry, I didn't know it was you! I just saw somebody over here banging on the door for so long... I thought I better come see about it. Maeve's down at Bendemeer's Stream... I guess you know. And I guess Carl's just not home yet."
"Yeah, I guess not," Harry grinned halfheartedly, his eyes trying to fix the sight of her indelibly in his mind. He and Jo had never seen too much of the Lunsfords down at Bendemeer's Stream on weekends. The Lunsford's trailer was quite a distance from theirs, and he, unlike Carl, didn't really think it too good an idea to mix too much socially with the students. It destroyed the teacher-student relationship.
Looking at Betty's luxuriant curves now, though, all but naked, he wondered if he'd done the right thing. He'd never seen her like this, and she was delectable! He could feel his cock stir, and he was so grateful. God! Maybe it was coming back! First this morning, watching Maeve and the Admiral, and now he was coming to life just looking at Betty.
She posed with her arm along the open car door and looked at him, smiling. She was close enough that he could smell her suntan oil.
"Well, you look right downhearted, Harry," she said lazily, and her voice, soft and syrupy and imprecise in her southern drawl, so different from Jo's crisp orders, came out and caressed him like a kindly hand.
"I guess I... am... a little," he stammered.
"Well, I know how to deal with that. You need a long cool drink and a little rest in the shade," she said softly. Her tongue came out to lick her lips provocatively.
Harry swallowed and tried to look away, but her cat-green eyes held his. "I... well... I guess I should be getting back."
"It won't take long... and you'll feel better for the long drive. George and I are going down tomorrow. That's why he's working so hard today. But we're going down tomorrow, and I'm taking a ham and things... to sort of help entertain the Admiral, you know. George's still at the school, doing his homework."
Harry presently found himself ensconced under the roofed patio of the Lunsford house with a long cool drink in his hand and his shoes off. He couldn't remember ever having agreed to coming over, but Betty had somehow taken the decision out of his hands. He was more comfortable than he'd been in years, lying propped on a huge lounge with Betty fluttering around to anticipate his every wish. He envied George Lunsford more than he'd ever envied anybody... except maybe Carl Crandall.
"You just work too hard, Harry," he heard her say. "You've got to take better care of yourself. You must just worry the life out of Jo." Harry snorted mentally at the idea of Jo worrying about him... ever.
Betty sat down on the edge of the lounge, leaning one arm across him. Harry had to close his eyes briefly to try and get control of himself. Her big beautiful tanned breasts were almost completely out of the bra top, spilling in amplitude over the edge of the yellow cloth. He could feel his prick practically hard! It was coming up again... just the way it had this morning!
Images were racing through his brain... ridiculous Walter Mitty fantasies about what he might do to this lovely creature, and she welcoming it and...! But he knew it was no use. He'd never been a ladies' man, and he was too middle-aged and beaten down now to ever be.
"You're awful quiet, Harry." Her hand caught his and patted it. "I just plain ramble on too much, I know."
"Oh, no, you don't," he burst out, squeezing her hand boldly. "I'm just not... well, I never know what to say to a beautiful woman... when I have the opportunity..." he ended lamely. He could feel his rod coming all the way up, and he tried surreptitiously to cross his legs and hide its obvious presence.
"Don't tell me you don't know what to say," she whispered softly, looking straight into his eyes. "Well," she amended, "you may be a little unsure of yourself here," her fingers came up to touch his mouth gently, "but you sure know what to say here." Her hand trailed down to brush his bulging cock in the front of his pants.
Harry almost came off the couch at the touch of her hand on his erect and bundled-up penis. He jumped as though shot, and his hips lunged forward to keep her hand in contact with him through the cloth. "God, Betty," he gritted through his clenched teeth.
"Feel good to you, Harry?" she inquired in a whisper, crossing her bronzed, shapely thighs which only emphasized her V-ed crotch that drew his eyes like a magnet. "I've always admired you so, but I've never really had the chance to talk to you much before." And her eyes looked down demurely.
"Betty..." Harry swallowed hard.
"Yes, Harry," she whispered, leaning toward him and showing both reddish nipples peeking from inside the bra.
"I..." But he never finished. He just closed his eyes and grabbed her by her tanned arms and pulled her down on his chest to kiss her. Her mouth immediately opened under his, and Harry plunged his tongue in hungrily, groaning deep in his throat. Christ! It was so good to kiss a woman again... a real woman... soft and sensuous and delicate. He could smell her faint perfume. The skin of her tanned back was still warm from the sun, and her breasts mashed into his thin chest. His hands roamed down her hips to her round buttocks, barely covered with the narrow strip of cloth.
His cock was throbbing in a stiff erection, just as it had this morning. He couldn't believe it! After all this time when he couldn't raise it if his life depended on it, and here... twice in one day! Jo. Just as he'd suspected all this time. Jo... the domineering bitch! She was the reason! She'd castrated him! All he needed was a real woman. That's all!
The more Harry tongue-fucked Betty, the stiffer his rod rose. He explored the whole warm wet inside of her mouth all the way to her tonsils, while his hands came around to snake inside the tiny bra and cup the full heavy weight of her hot breasts. The nipples popped straight out like hard little diamonds in his palms. Mentally he berated himself for not realizing sooner that Betty had a "thing" for him. Hell, he'd never even really looked at her before... at least not this much of her.
Betty smoothed her hand over Harry's lumped-up cock that was jumping inside his clothes like a horny seventeen-year-old's. So Harry had balls after all! Everybody laughed about him behind his back. Henpecked to death and the caricature of all the Casper Milquetoasts in literature. But then, she'd never known a man yet who was impotent with her. Careful, she warned. He could lose that erection at the slightest little thing. Some silly thing in his head that had nothing to do with her could turn him completely off. She decided then what she'd do.
Her hands worked gently but quickly as her tongue responded to his. She swiftly unzipped his pants and reached her hand inside to find it. The skin was smooth and velvety, and she gently disengaged his throbbing prod from the jail of his shorts... pulling it out till it rose through the fly openings and jutted skyward.
"Oh... Harry..." she moaned around his tongue to let him know she approved of the thick, rigid instrument in her hand. She smoothed it with both hands, one after the other, from head to base, and she thought he was going to come right off the pad. This poor devil was really in a bad way.
Well, she was hedging her bets. If she didn't get Carl,' she'd get Harry... but one way or the other she was getting up a little higher in the world than a lieutenant's wife.
Betty reached one hand behind her and untied the strings that held up the bra of her bikini, pulling it away from her breasts. Harry's hands came up to squeeze them feverishly, and the moans coming from deep in his chest were turning to pants.
Her hands on his naked, hardened prick set the breath coming out of him in gasps. He'd almost forgotten the feel of a woman's hands... smoothing and teasing and skinning his erect and quivering member. Her breasts felt like balls of fleshy fire in his hands... they were so hot and heaving. He felt like he could juggle them forever... but there was her tanned belly to explore with the little tight inward bud of her navel.
Harry's balls were churning vats of swirling sperm that seemed to increase with the feel of her hands and breast and tongue... like the boiling froth that rose up in a pot of bubbling jam to spill over the sides. Jacking off this morning while watching Maeve and the Admiral was nothing compared to what he was going to feel when he spewed his load into Betty's tanned firm belly.
"Harry," she breathed, pulling her mouth away and looking at him with hooded eyes, deep and mysterious and full of promise.
"Oh, Betty..." His hands held her breasts up like chalices, and he bent his head forward to suck first one and then the other.
"O-o-o-o-oooooooooooo!" she squealed, thrusting them farther into his frantic mouth that wished it were two, to lick and tongue and bite them both at once. Then one of his hands came down her belly like a gliding snake to curl inside the top of her bikini bottom, the fingers meshed in her pubic hair.
"Wait..." she sighed, and stood up momentarily to take it off. Harry looked up at this vision who'd brought him such a miracle. She was looking at him hungrily and yet somehow shyly, too. He pulled her white-patched golden body down to lie along his chest, and his hands blazed the silky trails of her sensual curves and valleys and hillocks. God! To hold that naked vision and feel the warmth of her!
She pulled away again, but only to smooth her hand inside his sport shirt and feel his sparse-haired chest. And then she smiled and pulled back, letting her hands capture his naked, lascivious shaft again, poking through his clothes like a giant fair-skinned sausage, veined and pulsing.
Suddenly Harry saw her head dip, and she kissed the bulbous head of his jumping cock.
"Oh-h-h-h-h-h!" he groaned, shoving his hips forward and feeling the incredible, glorious, unbelievable sensation of her lips on him. Slowly she slid her red mouth down on the quivering head, and he felt he was being killed with sheer blissful joy... that he would collapse at any moment.
"Ohhhh... suck it. SUCK IT!" he yelled, catching her golden head in his hands and pushing it farther over the long hard rod. Obediently she opened her mouth wider and slid it over his quaking, sensitive prick. She moved her mouth downward, taking more and more of it till Harry could feel the head mashing against the back of her throat. On the uptake she sucked hard as though he had a particularly delicious milkshake between his legs and it was so thick she had to suck really hard to get anything.
"Goddddddddddd!" he grunted out.
When she got to the tip of the head she ran her lips back down the length of it, lipping the rigid probe softly. She returned to the tip then and opened her lips again, and let the rubbery tip of his penis slide easily into her saliva-filled mouth. Then she rubbed her lips softly against the foreskin, and a quick shudder ran through Harry's narrow thighs.
Betty swallowed more of his cock. Its thickness almost choked her momentarily, but she adjusted her mouth to accommodate it better. She moved her mouth up and down, swirling her tongue around it in a dervish dance that was sending Harry right up the wall. She was a damn good cocksucker and she knew it... glorying in her power to turn this thin tied-in-knots man into a roaring bull.
The heavy penis throbbed in her mouth as she struggled for more breath. She began to suck again, moving her head more rapidly now up and down the shaft. She could feel the flesh of her ovaled lips pulling out each time she slid her mouth to the tip.
Harry was writhing, humping his thin shanks and loins up to her greedy, skillful mouth and tongue which played his organ like a concert master. His hands were memorizing her naked, body like a poem, going over and over the lines. One hand found the wetness between her thighs and lunged into the dark, damp recess there. Jesus! She was juicy and sopping with desire. Desire for him! He wanted to fuck his whole aching, throbbing cock right into that delicious hole, but he couldn't bear to have her take her mouth off him.
As a substitute he slipped his finger in her slippery slit, and she immediately arched up to him, giving him even greater access to the swollen, opening lips and inner secrets of her pussy. Her mouth and tongue never stopped their diligent, loving labor on his shaking, jerking rod.
As his hand slid in her juicy canal, her tongue whirled and licked and sucked. He was in a heaven that he'd forgotten existed and never thought to enter, and he still didn't know what he'd done to deserve this temporary entrance to indescribable rapture.
"Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h," he groaned fitfully, lifting his hips now to shove his driving, seeking penis even farther into the lewdly erotic hot cave of her mouth. His hand was sluicing her narrow slit with two fingers, and her inner secret center was pouring out the news of her rising, screaming desire. He touched the bell of her clitoris, and the clanging sent reverberations shivering through her whole body in ever-widening ripples, for he could feel her shake and moan around his prick.
She tried harder than ever to cram his cock all the way in until her nose was touching the upstanding prickly pubic hairs in his groin. She could feel his finger sloshing through her cunt, teasing her clit, and then plunging into her clutching vagina. She could hear the sucking sounds her mouth made on his rigid prong. His finger was sending shivering signals through her whole body, and she increased the frantic sucking of her constricted mouth on Harry's hard meat.
He was almost there. She could feel the blood racing in his shaft and the fevered lifts and thrusts of his loins as he tried to gag her completely with his digging prick. He sensed that she was getting close, too, for he dug two fingers harshly into her dripping, clenching, in-sucking, cunt. Her head bobbed faster and faster, and she spread her legs as wide as she could so he could finger-fuck her to a climax, hopefully in time with his. Old Harry was going to come completely unglued when she sucked him dry!
Harry dug his fingers desperately into her slippery, milking pussy that sucked his fingers as if they were the most delicious ramming cock in the world. He pressed his thumb on the button of her quivering, erect clit while his fingers dug deeper than ever. She ground her pelvis up greedily, as though her starving cunt wanted to devour his whole hand.
Carl leaned back in the hard wooden chair wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his reading glasses cut into the flesh. He put his glasses down on the polished library table and stretched. His muscles felt cramped, and he was bone-tired. But it was a good tiredness. He knew he had all the bugs out of his presentation now. It was the best he could give it, and he knew it was damn good. If the Admiral didn't buy this,, he'd be very surprised. But even if he didn't, Carl felt it was a really solid piece of work, and he felt good about it.
He stood up and gathered his papers and books together in a neat pile. He stretched again. God, it felt good to stand up. The damn library chairs were never made for long sitting, but he had to get out of the office. Too many phone calls... too many people dropping by.
Driving down the coast road, his tie off and his jacket thrown in the back seat on his canvas weekend bag, Carl went over the proposal again in his head. He still couldn't find any objection the Admiral could have to it... provided Carl had read him right and the guy really was interested in reforms for officers.
Well, he'd find out soon now. His hands gripped the wheel. There were so many things he'd find out soon. Whether he still had a wife or not. Whether the Admiral was actually going to give him his big chance. How deep Harry had plunged that knife in his back by getting first crack at the Admiral. He had to admit grudgingly that Harry'd had a stroke of genius in asking the Admiral to Bendemeer's Stream for the weekend. Carl cursed himself for not thinking of it first. But you can't win 'em all.
He flipped on the radio, and the soft music flowed out. Some Irish ballad. It made him think of Maeve. She loved music like that. And he loved her.
Some long agonizing soul-searching had finally produced that rather pertinent fact. Last night he'd gotten drunk by himself... alone in the house... all by himself.
Betty'd called and told him she'd talked to Maeve and where she was and the plans for entertaining the Admiral tomorrow. He'd been pretty goddamned short with her. He knew he was guilty as hell, but somehow her nerve, in calling Maeve only a few hours after Betty'd been lying screeching under him, set his teeth on edge. She seemed to think everything was going to go on. Carl hadn't bothered to tell her he thought Maeve had seen them. God, why give that bitch any more ammunition?
He just knew one thing for certain. He loved his wife and he wanted her back and Betty Lunsford could go to hell! Let her work her machinations on somebody else. She'd only got her hooks in him because he'd been so starved for sex for three months. He knew that was his fault now, too. Well, he decided grimly, that was never going to happen again, either.
When the announcer's voice came blasting through, he quickly twirled the dial to another station. He settled back again and lit a cigarette.
So Maeve was an art nut. So what? Big deal. There were a lot worse things she could do. Like fucking the neighbors' husbands the way Betty Lunsford did. He'd seen suburban wives go through that routine before Betty even, and he knew Maeve had never even entertained the thought. He was damned lucky. The only difference was... now he knew it.
There was something extremely salacious about sucking a man's cock when he was fully dressed, except for the long, upstanding, naked, blue-veined prick poling up from his groin. Betty sucked deeply on the throbbing instrument and then pulled her head back till only the knob of the head was in her mouth, and her tongue flicked out to burrow into the tiny slit that was oozing his fluid copiously.
Harry had one hand in her ponytail, pushing her down over the huge pulsating fleshy stem, and the other sank deeply into her hot sloshing pussy.
Betty could feel the inching forest fire his digging fingers had set, spreading through the plains of her arching body. Above her own moaning she could hear the shuddering grunts Harry was making and the tortuous breathing.
"Suu-u-u-u-u-u-c-c-k-k-k," he groaned as he ground his vibrating cock up to her voracious, salivating mouth. He was still rock-hard and rigid as steel, forged with the strength of knowing he had a huge hard-on that felt as though it could go on till hell froze over. If he hadn't been so busy he could almost have wept with joy over the first truly successful erection he'd had in so long he didn't even want to try to remember.
Harry didn't know when things began to go wrong with Jo. God knows she had always been a hot piece, but it happened not too long after they were married when he could see that he could never live up to her holy father, whom she worshipped. Bit by bit his own self-confidence had crumbled until there was nothing he felt he could do that would be acceptable or praiseworthy in her eyes. He'd always known when his interest and desire began to really go that his creeping impotence was a vengeance, a punishment, a weapon to hurt her as badly as she'd hurt him. It hadn't even mattered that logically it hurt him, too. It had almost seemed a worthwhile sacrifice.
But now... now that he had a real erection with a woman slobbering and crooning over it in a lewd cock-sucking trance... he knew he could never go back to his forced chastity... for punishment or any other reason. He had to fuck... hot and hard and often!
Harry could feel the pressure building up in his testicles. The semen was surging back and forth, and seemed to build up a larger and larger volume every shattering second. He wondered for one uncertain minute if he should try to separate his cock from her searing mouth in order to fuck her, but the thought of parting with that greedy suctioning vacuum was unbearable. He lifted his hips and cradled her naked shoulders so she was curled across him and he could forage even more furiously into her hot, erotically sucking cunt.
The pale blond fleece of her pubic covering was matted and wet with the seeping, dripping fluid from deep inside her quaking body. He wanted to lick it... all the juicy love dew that proclaimed she wanted him, but, again, he could not gather the strength to move her elasticized mouth drawing his own cum closer and closer to the gushing point.
"Mmmmmmm-mmmmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmm!" she moaned unintelligibly around his prick, her mouth so full of near-exploding cock that she couldn't articulate the wild raging riotous sensations that centered in her own fiery cunt. She was close and edging ever closer, and she guzzled Harry's pole feverishly for she wanted him to fill her mouth with his steaming, creamy cum as she erupted in the giant quake that was sending warning rumbles through her whole body.
Harry made incredibly lascivious slurping noises in the still air by the hard hand-fucking he was giving her wet, wanting pussy. Her hips were flailing and rolling and grinding the sopping hair-matted quivering cunt up to his pillaging fingers to keep the sensual agitation at the frantic pitch of sensation that her too-full mouth tried vainly to communicate. She was rising up and down, head bobbing faster and faster on his screaming cock and her hips contorting wildly to an increasing tempo.
Suddenly Harry felt her stiffen, rigid as a corpse, and her mouth clamped tighter and her teeth raked painfully. The pain-pleasure of her teeth set off the ignition cap and his balls wadded in knots and then...
"CUMMMMMMM," he bellowed, "CUM...on!" And his groin lifted his buttocks completely off the lounge, and his cock spewed a blast of boiling semen in a mighty roar down the very back of her sucking throat.
His hand was clasped by the powerful muscles of her vagina like a vise or a bear trap, and he grabbed the pubic bone between his thumb and digging fingers, hanging on to the exploding, inward-sucking organ like a life rope. Her rigid body shuddered in quaking spasms, her thighs trying to wrap around his forearm. Her orgasm was as violent as his, and she shook as hard as he did.
She sucked and swallowed as fast as she could, gagging and spluttering to contain the enormous amount of liquid that gushed out of Harry's penis into her throat with the force of an engine-propelled jet-stream. The hot carnal flow was blazing, and she swallowed rapidly, her Adam's apple working furiously. Sucking and swallowing, she felt the flaming lava erupt in her opening cavern, and it flowed in hot trails throughout the country of her body... searing and destroying the entire countryside to leave her devastated and spent... a totally destroyed entity.
Smaller and smaller quakes still shook them as the rocketing orgasms leveled and left them spent and exhausted and a seeping peace chloroformed their senses Slowly Betty raised her weary head, a long spittle of semen stringing up from Harry's cock to her slack mouth. She looked at him blearily and smiled reflectively.