Chapter 2
I gave them half an hour, walking around to putter through the barn, and I swear I couldn't completely lose my hard-on. My cock kept nudging my jeans, as if it were insisting it ought to be dipped immediately into that juicy cunt I'd watched being screwed. Even after I stacked some hay bales, my hungry prick was still throbbing, and I tried to figure out what made me so damned horny.
Of course, it had been the first time Td ever seen anybody put it to my wife, but that kind of scene was supposed to make me mad or jealous. It hadn't; instead, I got one hell of a thrill from watching my wife squirm and wiggle as she rode the boy's young shaft and really enjoyed her obvious rapture as she came and came again.
Hell, I loved Betty. And to me, that meant I wanted to see her happy. If that meant buying her a new dress or fixing up the house to suit her, I was glad to do those things. So why shouldn't I feel the same about a lover for my wife? If Betty needed some different fucking to make her happy, why shouldn't she have it? It wasn't as if she were going to run off with the kid and take half the community property; my wife just wanted to screw this boy, to spread around some of her warm loving.
Funny thing, I thought, looking toward the house from the barn door; I had always been proud of Betty's excellent way of fucking, proud of the tight hotness of her active pussy and the eager rolling of her ripe ass. But I couldn't very well run around bragging on that land of thing to other men. Now that was changed, if I was careful enough not to spook off the Jessup boy; he and I could discuss my wife's fucking ability and compare notes. I liked the idea.
I saw the lad ease out the back door and go zipping across the yard into the trees, and I grinned a little, wondering where the hell he got the strength, after the eager screwing Betty had given him, practically wringing out his prick and draining his balls. But he was young and that covered a lot; Charlie could probably fuck all day and half the night before going limp, like a young stud turned loose on his first mare in heat. And just then, I felt pretty much that way myself.
A few minutes later, I ambled toward the house, whistling and making noise so that Betty would know I was around. My heart hammered in my throat, and my yearning prick shoved into the crotch of my pants. I had no idea what I'd say to Betty, or even how I would approach her, but I knew I sure as hell had to do something. She'd be plenty surprised if I made a pass at her in the afternoon like this, for it had been a long time since we'd screwed in daylight, purely by desire. That's what I mean about our fucking getting into a boring routine—only at night, only after a certain pattern was established and certain signals read correctly.
Now it was different, and as I banged open the kitchen door, it was as if I was trying to figure how to make some strange woman for the first time. And it was exciting, so stimulating that little hot chills raced up and down my spine. Betty came from the back of the house, dressed as usual in her ranch getup: jeans and boots and a man's shirt, her raven-wing hair tied back in a loose ponytail. There was a flush upon her cheeks, and her mouth was damp when she planted a fleeting kiss upon my cheek, and I caught a special perfume rising from her warm body, a faint, intriguing musk of aroused womanhood.
There was a guilty shifting of her dark eyes, one I would never have noticed if I hadn't seen her balling the kid on our bed such a short time before. Betty seemed to have a new, fresh glow about her, an inner radiance that was beguiling. And if I hadn't already been so damned horny, she would have turned me on just by being close. The outside screwing she had been getting from her teenage stud was making some beautiful and compelling changes in my wife.
She moved edgily away from me, going to the sink, and I caught a little tremor in her voice as she said, "You're in pretty early, aren't you?”
"Tractor broke down," I answered, coming up behind her and sliding my arms around her trim waist, just barely touching my crotch to the rounded hill-locks of her lush ass. "I walked in quite awhile ago.”
"Oh?" Betty stiffened in my arms. "I-I didn't know you were at the house.”
"In the barn, mostly," I said, breathing down against the nape of her neck. "Did you have a good day?”
I could feel her relax as she figured I didn't know anything about her young lover, that I couldn't possibly have seen her in action or I wouldn't be acting like this, so calm and loving. She said, "Oh yes—about the same as usual; cleaning the house and stuff like that”
Stuff like climbing on top of a lad's sleek body and keeping his hard cock buried to the root inside the dripping sleeve of her semen-filled pussy, I thought, arid my own shaft grew harder, pressing into the tight cleft of her jeans so she couldn't help but feel it This was a somewhat crucial moment, I decided; my wife might not be turned on by me anymore now that she had a new cock to work upon, and that kind of reaction would really screw things up for all of us. Not that I had any idea of cutting her off from the lad's screwing; I could always sneak around and watch her wiggle on Charlie's stiff prick, and I really didn't want to deprive Betty of anything that made her so happy. But I did want more than just peeping; I wanted to share my wife with the virile boy, to do hot and slidy things that were only now just beginning to take form inside my head.
She didn't freeze, and another quiver moved delicately through her flesh as I put my lips to her neck. Those ripe cheeks moved back against the stiffness of my lifted cock, snuggling my rod between them, and I had a mental flash of my wife's ass as she straddled Charlie Jessup's supine body, as she had lowered that shapely tail down upon the throbbing club submerged within the greasy walls of her cunt.
"Rich," she whispered, "in the middle of the afternoon?”
Moving my hands up to cup the full, heavy breasts, I said, "As we used to do, remember? You feel good and smell good, and I want to lay you, right now.”
I wanted to because she hadn't even had time to put on her bra, and that meant she also hadn't taken time to have a douche, and the boy's slippery juice was still trapped inside the satin folds of her hot snatch. Still holding gently to the lovely globes of her tits, I began to urge her toward the hall and the bedroom.
Betty hesitated then, resisting just a little. “Ah—I haven't made up the bed yet, darling. It's a mess. Why don't we use the couch?”
"The bed," I insisted, realizing why she was avoiding it The sheets might still be warm from their excited coupling, the scent of their sweat yet trapped there. But I wanted to fuck my wife right there where the kid had put his meat to her, to squirm and bounce in the same spot, so I said, "Since if g already mussed, we'll just muss it some more.”
Slowly, Betty allowed herself to be steered back into our bedroom, but she paused again at the edge of the bed, biting her lips, and I knew as she looked down at the rumpled sheets that my wife was thinking of the screwing she'd had there just a little while before. Maybe she was comparing us in her mind—her eager boy and the husband she knew too damned well. And I thought that if I let her back out now, she might create some kind of shrine in her head, as women are apt to do about romance.
So I practically ripped the shirt off her upper body and shoved her over into the bed as she turned, her eyes questioning. "Rich—you're so anxious—”
"Horny," I corrected, "and you've never looked more beautiful to me, never more sexy." Except when she had actually been fucking the kid, I thought, when I had watched Charlie's young prick move in and out o£ her black-haired cunt, shining with her love oils.
Then I was at her jeans, whipping off her boots first, not surprised to find she wore no panties, and as I stared down at that curly nest of ebony fur between her lush thighs, I saw something eke that made my cock leap—a little creamy smear of semen caught in her pubic hair, glistening up at me. Damn! That dab of residual come seemed to hit me in the balls and make them swell, and I shook all over. My wife's pussy had never looked more mysterious, not even just before the first time I got into it Peeling out of my clothes, I flung them aside and stood over Betty with my prick arched out hard and long, pumped full of a new, wild power, even though I had so recently jacked off. My balls were distending themselves like balloons, and a muscle began to jerk inside my thigh. I climbed up on the bed with her, lying down on top of that luxuriant body and feeling the rigid nipples of her big tits dig their points into my hairy chest.
Jamming my mouth down hard against her, I forced my tongue deep, rolling it around as I panted hungrily. She had sucked on the kid's tongue, I thought in a shuddering daze, and maybe—maybe my wife had even taken the head of Charlie's prick into her lips! That image went bombing through my taut body and whirled crazily inside my head. In all the years we had been married, Betty had only kissed my cockhead a few times, and sensing that she had some kind of block about oral sex, Td done no more to her delightful pussy. But now, things could change, turn completely around, be thrillingly different.
My prick was iron hard, jammed between our bellies, and her skin was like satin heated over a stove, so smooth and tingling; her teeth clashed suddenly and voraciously against mine as her tongue went wild. Betty was hotter than she had ever been with me, that lush and freshly screwed cunt pulsing against my packed balls, her pelvis humping and teasing for the meat she wanted. When she spread those sleek legs, I wiggled my hips, the knob of my stiff rod searching for the humid opening of her enchanted pussy. With a deft and agile shifting of her ass, my fiercely aroused wife got her torrid vulva set against the tip of my glans, and I felt the marvelous softness, the captivating dampness of her cunt lips.
Was there an added slickness, a special jelly inside her eager labia, a juice left over from Charlie's ejaculations? I thought so, wanted to think so, and shoved my flanged bulb solidly into the wetly welcoming grasp of Betty's inflamed pussy. My prick slid easily into her hot sheath, reaching up and up inside her trembling vagina until it was buried full length, until my balls snuggled against the furry crack of her ass— where the kid's balls had pressed a little while ago. Her lover's cock had been shoved home just as mine was now, and her volatile cunt had contracted upon it just as she was doing to me now, caressing itself soapily over the hard meat, wiggling and squeezing as Betty arched her back and rolled her ripe ass.
"Umm," she murmured, "this is good, Rich—doing it as we used to, because we couldn't stand not to do It”
It was more than she usually said when we were fucking, but they weren't the words she had used while she had been slithering around on the boy's shaft. I began to work my aching cock into her clenching pussy, reveling in the immediate hot response of the sultry body that now seemed new and strange to me. Alien pressures stirred within Betty's vagina, twitchings and ripplings that milked at my moving prick.
I said, "Do what?”
My wife paused in midstroke, then caught up the slow, sensuous rhythm again. "You know—do it.”
"You mean fuck? Is that what you mean, Betty—when we fuck?”
She shuddered, the reflexive movement passing through her veed thighs and up into the buttery nest of her filled cunt, and I heard her catch her breath. Powerfully, ramming it, I drove my shaft to the root, grinding the head almost brutally around inside her juicy socket where the hot oils blended—her own flow of bubbling syrups and the greasy deposit of another male's semen.
Betty's voice shook, and her whisper broke against my teeth, "Oh yes—when we fuck—fuck, fuck. Oh Rich, my darling—fuck me! Fuck me hard, hard—oh, fuck me!”
Convulsing her vagina, lifting her springy pelvis to grind it avidly into my own, my wife rode my driving cock as if it was totally new to her, hammered upon its sliding length as if she had never been screwed by ft before, as if she hadn't been fucked by someone else less than an hour back. And ft was good; it was a squirming, heaving wonder when her smooth legs went around the small of my back and her rounded arms around my neck. Betty worked her crotch violently, the cheeks of her beautiful ass clenching and loosening in my hands.
"You fuck like this because you're a hot, sweet bitch who adores a man's hard prick," I panted. "You really love this stiff meat, Betty—you're crazy about a long cock up your juicy cunt Aren't you, baby—aren't you?”
"Y-yes!” she gasped. "Oh yes, yes!”
Feeding the shaft into her actively churning pussy, stroking long and deep and meeting her eager thrusts, I said, "Then say it. Tell me why you love to fuck like this. Say it, Betty!”
She bit at the corded base of my throat "All right, all right, damn you! I love to fuck, love it—I need to feel a—a hard prick up me. I adore your hard prick, Rich.”
I kept at it, pumping my swollen rod into her scissoring pussy, pounding my crotch into her soft one, hammering my pelvis at hers, wheeling the head of my plunging cock around inside the tight, blazing grip of her maddened snatch. "Where do you adore it, where?”
"In—in my pussy!” she grated. "I love your prick in my pussy, and the feel of your balls into the crack of my ass, and the way you grind your hips and oh— oh—it's so wonderful!”
The barricade had broken. She was using the words she had always avoided saying out loud, although they had been caroming around inside her head all these years. She was now telling me the raw, real things she had hissed so passionately to her young lover, and I thanked him silently in their echo. I didn't know what had happened to my wife to finally make her stray from the somewhat prudish guidelines she had set for herself; I didn't care which of them had made the first tentative move toward seduction, Charlie or Betty; all that mattered was the wondrous new vitality that surged through her reawakened pussy.
She was lascivious, rutting like a bitch in heat, bucking and heaving upon my pistoning cock as if she would never get enough of the hard meat Her superb cunt was auctioning at my rod, pulling upon it, nibbling at the knob, and my wife seemed to be trying to get more and impossibly more into her tempestuous body. Ah, she was a gorgeous fucking machine, her heels now thumping against the cheeks of my ass, urging me to rip open her lovely pussy, demanding that I somehow force my balls into her steaming cleft, too.
Hell, I wanted to crawl up inside that adoring cunt and curl up inside the flowing walls. But I did the next best thing—rolled Betty back upon her shoulders and seesawed the meat rapidly to her, sledging my prick home time and time again, touched bottom and felt the spongy cup of her womb. Raking my back with her clawed nails, she undulated longingly upon my shaft, hunching wildly as her climax began to grow within the rippling depths of her snatch, as the magic sensations started to spread from the impetuous vibrations of her clitoris.
All I could do about then was hang on and ride out the storm of lust released within my wife's blistering cunt, and it was a wild rodeo. Locked so tightly in the grip of her legs, drawn so intensely into the writhing depths of her pussy, I felt my own orgasm gathering, and when Betty cried out that she was coming, coining, I was only a few heartbeats behind her.
The head of my prick flexed strongly, and a jet of semen burst hissing from it, the bubbling liquid thick and creamy, hurling itself furiously against her cervix and bathing the sheathing of Betty's vagina with slippery fluids, streaming over my suddenly stilled cock and gathering around its base, where her cunt lips locked over the stem. It was a terrific explosion, and I thought of the splatter of my come hitting the hallway wall when I had watched her fucking her other lover.
"Oh," she groaned, her legs sliding down my back, oh, that was the best, Rich-the very best fucking ever.”
It just popped out: "As good as Charlie's screwing?”