Chapter 1
Savoring the sexuality of the moment, the promise of pleasure sublime propelling deliciously lewd thoughts through his mind, Dr. Paul Latham shucked his baby-blue boxer shorts and tossed them in the direction of a straight chair, upon which already rested, in a crumpled heap, a blue undershirt, a white, V-necked pullover, a soft yellow summer sports coat and a pair of expertly-tailored, cerulean trousers.
Bare-assed naked now, he straightened up and turned toward the queen-sized bed he shared with his outrageously desirable wife, Valerie, clamping his hands on his hips as he fixed his hazel eyes on her near-nude form. He smiled, the knowledge that the gorgeous creature now sitting on the edge of the bed would soon be blowing him, her satiny lips sliding wetly over his aroused genitals, sending another quiver of lusty anticipation up his spine.
"And just why is the good doctor smiling?" asked Valerie, a beautiful grin washing over her smooth, unblemished face. "What's going on in that devious mind of yours now?"
"Can't a man take a minute to admire his stunning spouse, Mrs. Latham?"
"Of course he can, darling. But that lecherous little smile of yours suggested more than simple appreciation."
"Really?"
"Really. Your head is just full of deliciously filthy thoughts tonight, isn't it?"
Paul chuckled softly. "You have only yourself to blame, my sexy darling. You inspire a man's imagination."
"Is that a compliment, luv?"
"What else?"
Valerie winked at her handsome forty-year-old husband, her need for that beautiful hunk of flesh now dangling between his legs increasing with each passing second. She squirmed her pantied ass on the bed and brought her left hand to the juncture of her warm, creamy-smooth thighs, her fingers dripping down into her crotch to feel the dampness there.
Directing a tantalizing smile at her husband, Valerie commenced a delightful lewd massage of her sheathed snatch, her busy fingers teasing talons as they pawed her pussy. She leaned back a little and braced herself with her right arm, at the same time spreading her legs for her masturbating hand.
She played with herself unashamedly, her shapely hips in slow, provocative motion as she rubbed up her itching cunt. Up and down her hand moved, fingers digging deep and pressing the white cotton briefs into the moistening slit of her womanhood. The naughtiness of what she was doing gave her almost as much pleasure as the realization that she was lubricating nicely.
"You know something, Mrs. Latham," Paul said, his voice huskier than usual. "You are one very wicked, wicked woman."
"Married to one very wicked, wicked man," Valerie countered with a saucy smile.
"Are you going to play with yourself all night?"
"I'm getting myself ready for you, darling. My pretty little pussy is getting all nice and gooey for your beautiful cock."
Paul grinned. "That'll be the day when my wife has to prepare herself manually."
"And what's that suppose to mean, lover?"
"It means you're the kind of woman who's ready to fuck at the drop of a hat. One peek at a good-looking guy and you're creaming in your panties."
"Can I help it if I'm always horny?"
"I wouldn't want you any other way, beautiful. Now what do you say we get down to business."
"Business?" Valerie said coyly, feigning innocence.
"The business of sucking my pecker."
"Oh, so that's what you have in mind."
"Among other things. Do you think you're ready now to give me one of your expert blow-jobs?"
"I'm always ready to blow you, honey. Mmmm, I can taste him already."
Smiling, Paul Latham advanced to the bed as his voluptuous wife stopped fingering her itching twat and pulled herself up so that she was once again sitting erect on the edge of the bed, feet planted firmly on the floor. Valerie was indeed a helluva good-looking woman, he thought, again acknowledging the fact that without her to come home to he would be a less than happy man-even with all the messing around he did at the office.
His wife was a true beauty, as desirable now, at age thirty-four, as she had been when he first fucked her ten years ago, six months before they decided they might as well make everything nice and legal. And she was just as eager to get laid these days as she had been on her wedding night.
With her silky, Titian tresses sensuously caressing her neck and shoulders, and eyes like glowing emeralds, Valerie was a sight for the most jaded voyeur, a visual feast for all but the blind and hopelessly impotent. And when attired in something especially provocative, in an outfit that really accentuated her luscious, 38-26-36 figure, then it was that men stopped and stared and, almost worshipfully, as if mesmerized, marvelled at the wonder of her prick-thickening pulchritude.
"For a man intending to fuck the night away, you don't have a very hard pecker," Valerie noted, smiling up at her husband as he positioned himself in front of her. "I had hoped Mr. Cock would jerk to attention as you watched me play with myself."
Paul grinned. "Guess I've just got great self-control, sweetheart."
"Either that or you screwed yourself silly today with one of your hot-to-trot patients."
"All my female patients are not hot-to-trot, you know."
Valerie chuckled. "They may not be when they begin analysis, lover, but they are after several sessions. You make damn sure of that."
"It all comes under the heading of treatment, Mrs. Latham."
"Sure it does."
"I'm a professional, remember? And a professional strives for perfection in his work."
"And you're dedicated, too," Valerie added, playing along with her husband.
"Absolutely," Paul grinned. "I'm a hard-working psychologist dedicated to curing the confused and distraught."
"You're a crazy practitioner of passion, that's what you are," Valerie teased, as she brought her hands up from her lap to commence a gentle caress of her spouse's hairy thighs. Lowering her gaze from his face to the still flaccid prick less than a foot from her lips, she added, "You're a nasty old doctor who believes the mental health of his female patients depends on his dicking them dizzy."
"What a cruel bastard I am," Paul intoned softly, looking down at his succulent wife as he began smoothing down her flowing titian tresses. "I suppose you've lost all respect for me.
Valerie looked up quickly, the most mischievous of smiles lighting her beautiful face and her green eyes twinkling. "I love you with a passion, Doctor Latham. You're so devious it's delicious!"
Paul chuckled. "If that's so, then why aren't those lovely lips of yours wrapped around my cock yet? I said before it was time to get down to business."
"Time to go down, you mean," Valerie corrected.
"Just start sucking, Mrs. Hot-Pants."
"Yes, sir. Your wish is my command."
With that, realizing the time had come to end the silliness and turn serious, Valerie gave her full attention to the task at hand. It was a task she loved well, this stiffening of her husband's prick with her talented tongue and vacuuming lips. She loved the sense of power that would wind its way through her as she munched gluttonously on Paul's pecker, treasured the warm, slimy taste of his organ in her mouth and thrilled to the feel of it as it slowly but surely hardened inside her saliva-laden oral cavity.
Holding her husband's hips, Valerie leaned forward and proceeded to nuzzle her face against his dangling dick, slowly moving her head in such a way that the limp organ brushed across her eyes, nose, mouth and chin. She took a deep breath, inhaling the strangely-intoxicating aroma emanating from her mate's crotch.
"You do love your cock, don't you, beautiful?" Paul said, a broad grin washing over his face as he continued to lovingly stroke his wife's silken hair.
"Mmmm, it's delicious," Valerie purred.
"Suck it, baby. Get it nice and hard for me like a good little girl."
Valerie drew back just a little, her right hand trailing down from Paul's left hip to tenderly envelop his flaccid manhood. Lifting the penis carefully, as if it was a rare and fragile object d'art to be handled gently, with love, she puckered her full, ripe lips and planted a soft, moist kiss on its plum-shaped head. With her teasing tongue she tickled the tiny vertical slit in the center of the head, the slit from which would spew all that rich, creamy semen she loved sc; well.
Then, after running her tongue all around the thick crown, coating it with sticky saliva, she parted her lips and without further delay plopped Paul's pecker into her mouth. She began sucking immediately, pulling on the warm, tasty tool with her pursed lips and drawing more and more of it into her oral cavity.
"Yes, baby, yes," Paul said thickly. "That's my girl. Gobble it all up like candy."
"Mmmmm," Valerie hummed around the delicious pecker filling her mouth.
The titian-tressed beauty worked on the fleshy root with all the skill and dedication expected of a high-priced call girl, her head bobbing and weaving sensuously as she sluttishly stuffed her hungry mouth with the thickening organ. She couldn't wait until the fat, snake-like pecker was tumuscent and pulsating madly, its swollen length bloating her cheeks and stretching her jaw.
Paul, his hands resting now atop his wife's constantly moving head, stood as quietly as possible, and savored the wonderful sensations flowing through him. Val, he thought, was just a fantastic fellatrice, the consummate cocksucker. He had yet to meet a woman who brought such expertise, such wicked abandon to the exciting sport of fellatio. And this included the many women he had met through his thriving practice.
Valerie's magnificent tits strained against the white bra confining them, the blood-congested, pebble-hard points of her nipples trying to poke through the material as she slobbered over her mate's thickening, lengthening meat. The crotch of her panties was damp with desire, the sticky sex juices seeping from her aroused vagina to make of her crotch a sodden mess.
But it wouldn't be long now, she told herself. Paul's prick was almost fully erect, its bulbous head bumping against the back of her throat as she sucked hungrily and wallowed in the wicked wonder of this obsequious homage to his manliness. Another minute or so, maybe less,-and she would be able to feel in the wet, snug confines of her hungry mouth the pulsating power of her husband's totally tumuscent cock.
"Oh, baby, that's good," Paul husked, struggling to stiffle the urge to snap his hips forward and ram his saliva-coated manhood down his spouse's beautiful cocksucking throat. "Keep it up, honey. Do me good. Ohh, yeah, like that."
"Gaaargh," Valerie said, again trying to speak with her mouth full, her head now in rhythmic bobbing motion as she hungrily vacuumed her husband's prick toward her throat.
"Don't stop, baby. More, get it all. Oh, sweetheart. Oh, you cocksucking bitch...."
The wet slurping sounds made by his stunning wife as she sucked on his blood-fattened prick added to Paul's pleasure. He looked down at her and through eyes glazed by passion watched as she worked her beautiful magic.
To come in her mouth, or not to come in her mouth, that was the question, he thought. How thrilling it was to send his cream gushing into Val's hungry mouth and then watch as she gamely attempted to gulp it all down, the viscid product of his passion bubbling over her lips and dribbling down her chin as she swallowed rapidly, like one with a fierce thirst.
Then again, how thrilling it was to cream his well-sucked pecker deep into Valerie's wet, clinging cunt, hear her joyous moan of pleasure when he made that first bold thrust into her mushy, pulsing pussy. To lose himself in Val's gorgeous body, to cradle his head on the warm, spongy cushions of her eye-popping breasts while hammering his hank to the very depths of her slushy box, was sheer, unadulterated bliss.
As Paul considered his options, weighing the pleasure of coming in his wife's mouth against spilling his gooey seed in her velvet-like, hotly-gripping vagina, thinking, too, that it had been some time since last he ass-fucked her, Valerie continued her licentious laving of his bloated bone.
She had it all now, a fully erect seven-inch prick to suck to her heart's content, and she was making the most of it. Up and down her head bobbed, her tightly pursed lips hotly hugging the slippery spear of flesh. She sucked with abandon, with unmitigated delight, her left hand still glued to Paul's right hip, three fingers of her right hand curled around his turgid member at its hairy base.
Would Paul elect to splash her throat with his creamy semen, she wondered. Would she once again have the pleasure of drinking down his delicious load? Or would he decide to make her cunt happy by stuffing it chockful of beautiful prick? Maybe he was of a mind to give her the kinky thrill of a sound fanny-fuck.
Not that it made much difference. Whichever opening Paul chose was alright with her. In fact, were he so inclined he could spend his come in one of her ears. Now that might be a really way-out kick! It was one of the few things they hadn't tried in ten years of sexual experimentation.
"Oh, baby, that's the greatest," Paul rasped. "Suck it, sweetheart. Suck it raw, dammit."
Valerie groaned and then, without warning, pulled Paul's wet cock from her mouth. "Oh, I love you, I love you," she breathed hotly, worshipfully, pure adoration in her voice and expression as she fondled her husband's sparkling prick.
"I'm going to fuck the blazes out of you tonight," Paul promised.
"Yes, I want you to. I need it, darling. But first ... "
Leaving the thought unfinished, Valerie once again brought her sensuous lips to her spouse's blood-fattened pecker, this time to bathe it with a series of soft, moist kisses. Her lips trailed up and down the shiny shaft, from bulbous crown to hairy base and back again.
She took her left hand from Paul's right hip and brought it down between his legs, cupping his balls in loving embrace as she nibbled on his tasty stalk of flesh. As she squeezed the hairy testicles, bounced them playfully in the palm of her hand, her experienced tongue snaked from between her lips and she began a lascivious licking of her husband's powerful hard-on.
She licked up and down and all around the delicious dick, her teasing, swirling tongue a cunning serpent as it coiled around the organ's pulsating fullness. Like a child determined to devour her ice cream cone in record time, Valerie worked quickly and without pause, spending but a moment at one place before moving on to sample the taste of another.
With the fingers of her right hand still curled around Paul's manhood, steering it this way and that, she proceeded to swab the plum-shaped head with her tongue, bathing that knob of flesh with still more saliva before taking it briefly between her lips for a few scintillating seconds.
Then again she was on the move, lifting the steel-hard prick now and diving face first into her husband's crotch, her head slipping under the prick as again her tongue flicked out, this time to punch, probe, and finally soothe, with broad, sweeping strokes, Paul's wrinkled scrotal punch.
Paul emitted a moan of pleasure, his head lolling on his neck as Valerie, propelled by lust, mashed her face even harder against his crotch and fed her reaching tongue to his anus. Then it was back to her husband's scrotum, upon which she munched like a ravenous mouse, inhaling the pungent aroma of his aroused genitals as the wispy curls sprouting from the dangling sac tickled her nostrils.
Paul, his knees turning to jelly, his mind clouded by lust, endured the erotic oral caress of his genitals until the pleasure became just too much to bear. He had made his decision. He didn't want to come in his wife's mouth, at least not this time. Perhaps later, after he had hosed down Val's vaginal walls with a gushing spray of his thick cream, he would suggest that she suck him hard again, this time ingurgitating his passion product. If he knew his wife, she'd be all for the idea.
Valerie had started sucking her husband's cock again when she felt his fingers which had been entwined in her flaming tresses, suddenly tighten on her scalp. The next thing she knew she was being yanked away from his loins, his well-washed manhood plopping from her gripping lips with a lewd popping sound.
"Enough, baby," Paul husked. "I can't take any more of that."
Valerie tossed back her lustrous red mane and cast eyes brimming with desire up at her husband. "Where do you want me, Paul?" she asked excitedly. "How?"
"On the bed-on your back," her husband shot back. "Get those damn things off."
Wasting not a moment, Valerie pushed herself up off the bed and with trembling fingers reached around in back for the clasp of her brassiere. Seconds later, her heart beating fast, she was tossing the constricting garment aside and then quickly inserting her thumbs into the elasticized waistband of her cotton briefs.
When she was bare-assed naked, her creamy-smooth, oh-so-fuckable body in hot, anticipatory quiver, the titian-haired bombshell jumped back onto the bed, flipping over onto her back and twisting and turning into a comfortable position before spreading wide her sleek, well-formed legs.
"Come to me, Paul," she said hoarsely. "I need a fucking so bad. I'm burning up down there."
"I'll fuck you, sweetheart," Paul promised, a faintly feral smile on his face, his right hand wrapped around the pole of saliva-laden flesh protruding majestically from his aroused loins. "You're going to yell your beautiful head off."
"Do it, darling. Fuck me silly."
For a fleeting moment, as her husband clambered up onto the bed and maneuvered into position between her legs, Valerie savored the strong physical appeal of him. This man of hers, she thought, was a really terrific-looking stud, attractive in a rugged, all-man sort of way.
It was no wonder his female patients, or most of them, anyway, were willing to bare their bodies as well as their troubled souls for him. No doubt the younger ones thought of him as a kind of father figure-and wasn't it true that every little girl dreams of laying her dear daddy? The more mature women were probably turned on by what they believed to be Paul's genuine interest in their distrubed psyches.
All this aside, what female could resist her husband's charm and dashing good looks? He had but to give a girl that beautiful sexy smile of his-the one that suggested oodles of experience and a desire to add to his list of conquests-and she was wetting her panties in eager anticipation.
Six-foot-one, one hundred and seventy-five pounds, with warm, hazel eyes, and casually-combed long hair the color of cinnamon-that was the man she had married. And that was the man who, today, at age forty-one, could still send her into paroxyms of pleasure with his pussy-pleasing, seven-inch sword.
And how she wanted that sword now!
"You're going to get it good, baby," Paul husked, braced now on hands and knees over his supine spouse, his bloated prick, in pulsating readiness, poised to penetrate her swampy snatch.
Valerie squirmed under him. "Don't talk, Paul, do it. Fuck me hard and long. Don't tease me."
"Who's teasing, baby?"
"You are, dammit."
"Am I?" A lewd smile creased Paul's dark-complexioned face as he nudged his wife's waiting womanhood with the bulbous head of his turgid organ. Although eager to plunge his cock into the hot, mushy cove that was Valerie's vagina, he enjoyed delaying the inevitable for just a moment or two while his wife, locked in passion's strong embrace, squirmed her luscious five-feet-six-inches under him and begged for her banging.
"Oh, you bastard," Valerie moaned. "I could kill you."
"You want it now, huh, sweetheart?"
"Yes, dammit. Yes!"
"Will you ask me nicely for it?"
Valerie glared up at her teasing mate. "You're a big turd, you know that?"
"A what?"
"You heard me."
"That wasn't very nice, darling. You shouldn't-"
"Paul! Will you shut the hell up and stick it in me?"
"Right this minute?"
"Now!"
"Ask me nicely and-"
"No, I'm not going to play that stupid game tonight. I want your prick, Paul. Now shove it up my belly, damn you."
"Right up to your beautiful throat, Mrs. Latham."
Valerie muttered an epithet and hungrily reached down for her spouse's meaty member, her hot hands clutching its pulsating fullness. A deep-throated moan of lust rumbled up from her throat as she pushed up her shapely hips and, with trembling fingers, attempted to funnel Paul's cock into her sizzling cunt.
"Please, oh, please," she whined. "Fill me. Stuff me with prick."
Paul allowed his passion-drenched wife to wedge about an inch of his manhood into her viscous vagina, the feel of that syrupy cove gripping his tool, sucking it in, killing whatever intention he may have had to continue toying with Valerie's lust. He had not choice now but to push himself all the way inside her slushy sex chute.
"Alright, baby," he breathed hotly. "Here it comes. You asked for it."
"Give it to me, Paul. All of it."
Paul proceeded to do just that, a groan of intense pleasure sailing from his lips as he fed his wife the cock she craved, one smooth, even stroke sending his eager manhood tunneling up into her quivering belly. He held himself in check for several scintillating seconds, still braced on hands and knees with his bloated prick snugly ensconced in his mate's molten womanhood, savoring the familiar yet utterly delightful feel of Valerie's clutching cunt.
"Oh, Paul, I love it. Now I'm complete-stuffed with your beautiful cock."
"Hang on, baby. This is going to be fast and furious."
"Yes, do it. Fast and deep. Bang me to heaven, Paul."
Paul dropped down onto his gorgeous wife, his hard, hairy chest mashing against the spongy fullness of her succulent breasts as he began stroking his rod in and out of her happy twat. Valerie uttered a moan of delight and wrapped her arms around Paul's hard back. She drew up her legs and then splayed her knees.
"How is it, Val? Good, huh?"
"Wonderful. Beautiful."
"Tell me, baby. Talk to me."
"It's good," Valerie gasped. "I love it, Paul. I love your marvelous cock."
"You want more?"
"Much more. Harder. Deeper."
Spurred on by his own lust and his wife's urgent pleas for the plowing of her life, Paul slammed his blood-thickened cock into her steaming vagina again and again, his tight, sperm-packed scrotal sac spanking the puckered port of her anus with each jolting thrust of his tool into her copper-colored cunt.
In and out he pistoned his prick, hard and fast, his fingers digging into the pillow under Valerie's head. Breathless grunts of pleasure popped from his lips as he delivered the meat to his hungry mate.
"Go, Paul, go," Valerie pleaded huskily. "Fuck it raw, you beautiful stud."
"Up your tits, baby," Paul rasped.
"Give me, give me. Deeper, baby. Hurt me."
Paul's taut buttocks bobbed and weaved crazily, like a buoy adrift in a storm-tossed sea, as he plunged his rock-hard pecker to the delightful depths of Valerie's slushy sex canal. He felt his wife's sharp fingernails digging into his back and knew that before long she would start clawing him, raking those nails across his flesh and possibly drawing blood as she threw herself into the soul-searing fires of a roaring orgasm.
"More," Valerie grunted. "Faster-harder."
"You hot-assed bitch," Paul growled.
"Fuck this bitch. Screw her crazy."
Soon it was that Valerie fell to babbling like an idiot, gutter words and the foulest phrases imaginable tumbling from her lips in an unending flow of steaming vulgarisms. Her face, flushed and contorted by lust, bore absolutely no resemblance to the one she presented to the world outside.
This savage litany of lust, this vile verbal onslaught, was of sufficient depravity to trigger Paul's orgasm. Belts of exquisite joy shocked his nervous system as he reared back and delivered to his lust-demented mate a final flurry of bone-jarring thrusts, the last of which had his scalding semen streaking through his trembling tool and gushing into Valerie's quaking vagina.