Chapter 1
She sat on the toilet with one foot up on the edge of the bathtub and the milkman's face buried in her crotch.
Helen Percy wondered how many stops he made like this during the day. His name was Earl. He was a nice little man with a bald spot in the middle of his head. She liked men with bald spots. A bald spot gave a man an element of vulnerability and made her feel tender towards him. But at the moment, tenderness was not the issue. She hadn't had a man's mouth on her cunt in years and years, ten years of marriage to be exact, and now that the mouth was there, she wasn't certain it was real.
Her husband said it was unmanly to put his nose in a woman's crotch. She returned the favor-he kept his nose out of hers, and she kept her nose out of his. It was all very fine, except that before she married Ralph Percy the one thing she enjoyed most about a hot date was having her pussy licked.
Helen sighed. She looked down at the milkman's head. She still had her clothes on, but her panties were off and her dress pulled up far enough so that she could see his mouth working on her cunt. His tongue lapped up and down with a steady rhythm, like some kind of weird machine designed to pleasure a pussy.
"Do it a little harder," she said.
She was shocked at the words coming out of her mouth. Then she thought, why not? Earl obviously like to suck pussy, and there was certainly more than one way to do it. Why not tell him what she wanted? She also wanted more noise-the sound of a little slurping would be delicious-but she felt awkward telling him that. The hell with being awkward, she thought, nothing good ever comes of that.
"A little more noise," she said.
This time the milkman pulled his mouth away and looked up at her.
"What?"
"A little more noise," Helen said.
He looked puzzled. His mouth was drenched with her cuntjuice. He ran his tongue over his lips to clear some of it off. "Noise?"
"Never mind," Helen said. "Suck me some more."
"Don't you like the way I do it? I never had any complaints."
"It's marvelous," she said. "Do it some more."
She moved her fingers down and pried open her cuntlips, showing him the red meat. An old boyfriend, maybe the guy she should've married instead of Ralph, had once told her she had a meaty cunt. Meaty or not, there was sure a lot of it, and it was now boiling over and sopping wet.
Earl went back to pleasuring her pussy. She held the hairy lips open for him and watched the movement of his tongue. Her clit looked about ready to explode-big and pink and quivering. She watched him scoop cuntjuice out of her hole and drag it up along the gash. Moving her free hand to the back of his head, she pulled him in until his nose mashed against her clit!
"That's better," she said.
She could feel the tip of his tongue sliding out of his mouth to work from side to side between the lips of her cunt. He rubbed his nose over the tip of her clit and moved his tongue down to her cunt-hole. She moaned when he pushed his tongue inside.
"That's nice," she said.
He was good, but not good enough. She knew she wouldn't come. Maybe it was the newness of it, the years without it. She was wet as hell, but she knew there was no way the milkman could bring her off with his tongue. She gently pushed him away.
"Let's go in the bedroom," she said. "We can take our clothes off."
Wiping his mouth, he looked up at her. "There's no time for that," he said. "I've got a route to worry about."
"Don't you want to fuck me?"
He flushed. The question hung suspended in the air. "I thought you wanted me to go down on you," he said.
Helen sighed. "You're the one who made the offer."
"Sure I did."
"Is that all you ever do? Don't you ever screw?"
He was standing up now, his eyes glancing one more time at her gaping wet cunt. She closed her legs and pulled her dress down. She suddenly felt foolish.
"Never mind," she said. Then she added, "Would you like some coffee?"
"Some other time," he shrugged. "I got to get back to work."
She walked with him to the front door. She felt strange now, awkward in the presence of this man she hardly knew. It seemed difficult to believe that a few minutes ago he'd been lapping her pussy.
At the door he turned and looked her up and down. "You're a good-looking woman," he said. "Any time you want your pussy sucked, you just let me know, you hear?"
Returning to the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. Her thighs were quivering, she was aware of her juices between her legs, she could feel the wetness on the insides of her thighs.
Ten o'clock in the morning and I'm ready to explode, she thought. It was really her own fault. Earl had been delivering their milk for almost a year and nothing had ever happened. But this morning, during their usual trivial banter, he'd caught her looking at his crotch. It wasn't long before he came right out and offered to go down on her. She was shocked at first, but then reality set in-she was standing there wetting her pants just thinking about it, and she decided to accept his offer.
Pulling her dress back, she picked up a paper napkin off the kitchen table and delicately dabbed her crotch. The rough texture of the paper felt delicious. Spreading her cuntlips with her fingers, she sopped up the juice coating her gash. She'd been dressed and on her way out when the milkman had arrived, but now that would have to wait-she had something more pressing to worry about, something much more demanding. Thank God she had no hang-ups about playing with herself. She usually did it in the afternoon, locked up in the bedroom and flat out on the bed. Bringing herself off in the kitchen was something she hadn't done in a long time.
Opening the buttons down the front of her dress, she slipped it off her shoulders and unhooked her bra. She fluttered her fingers over her tits, dancing them over the heavy globes, scraping her nails across each nipple. Her tits had always been extremely sensitive. After the children were born, it became worse. A soft stroking of her nipples was usually enough to turn her on, and sometimes her w clothes did just that.
Lifting her tits with her hands, she looked down at them. The long nipples were out, swollen and hard, like two juice raspberries. My God, I'm like a bitch in heat, she thought, a bitch-dog without a stud to take care of her.
She opened her legs wide and mashed the heel of her palm against her cunt. It would be nice to have a mirror, have her legs open and watch herself in the act. She wondered how other women did it. Were they all using vibrators now? There ought to be a column in the newspaper-advice on how to get your jollies. Somehow the idea of putting a vibrator on her cunt seemed ridiculous, but maybe someday she'd try it, just to see what it was like.
Her cunt was dripping again, cuntjuice oozing out over her hand. She pushed two fingers into the brimming hole and slowly moved them in and out, stroking herself as though the fingers were a cock.
She used her free hand on her tits, sliding it from one heaving mound to the other, pulling and tugging at her nipples, teasing out the long, fleshy buds.
A soft moan escaped her lips as the familiar ache of tension loomed up in her belly.
Pushing against her cunt-mouth, she squeezed in a third finger and groaned at the sweet stretching of the steaming hole. She began humping her pelvis against her hand, squirming her ass on the seat of the chair as she finger-fucked her juice-filled cunt.
Suddenly, without warning, she felt her first climax, the spasm contracting her belly, her tits jiggling madly, she groaned through the last of it with her eyes closed and her thighs squeezing the thickness of her fingers.
With a soft, whimpering sound, she brought her fingers up to her face and sniffed her cuntjuice. She stared at the juice-coated fingers, at the glistening wetness smeared on her palm. Opening her trembling lips, she pushed her wet fingers into her mouth and sucked them clean.
At ten o'clock that evening, Helen sat beside her husband in the living room. As usual, Ralph had his hand on a can of beer and his eyes cemented to the television screen. Helen was still sexually restless. The masturbation in the morning had calmed her down for a few hours, but it hadn't been enough. She was due to have her period in a day or two, and it oc curred to her that maybe that was the reason she was so damned horny.
The children were upstairs in their rooms, hopefully asleep, and she decided she had to do something about getting Ralph into the bedroom. He hardly ever went to bed before midnight, and there was no way she could wait that long. In any case, by the time she crawled into bed at midnight, he'd be too tired to do anything except sleep.
She opened her robe, pulled it aside, and moved a hand down to her crotch.
Ralph finally shifted his eyes from the tube to her hand. He watched her fingers teasing the curls of her dark, thick bush.
"What the hell are you doing?" he said.
"I'm scratching myself," she said.
"Bullshit," he said. "It looks like you're doing more than that. Suppose one of the kids comes down?"
"They're asleep."
"Well, I'm not asleep," he said.
"So what?"
"You're jerking off."
Helen sighed. "Listen, Ralph, are you trying to tell me you never jerk off? If you say yes, I won't believe it."
"What the hell's got into you?" he said.
"You're acting crazy."
"I'm not acting crazy. I just need some attention."
Lifting a heavy breast with her hand, she offered him the nipple. "Oh, shit!" he said.
He looked down at her tits. Helen remember how he sometimes nursed at her tits for hours before they were married.
"Let's go to the bedroom," she whispered.
She moved closer to him, pressed her lips against his, and opened her mouth to extend her tongue. He flinched when she put a hand on his cock, squeezing him through the cloth of his pants. His cock was hard. Showing him her body hadn't been useless, after all. They continued to kiss, Helen mewling her approval, her hand stroking and fondling his cock.
Ralph finally pulled away. "Okay," he said. "I don't know what's got into you, but it's almost time to go to bed anyway. Come on."
It's better than nothing, she thought. Even if he was a clod when it came to sex, she still loved him.
When she stripped off her robe inside the bedroom, he filled his hands with the weight of her tits.
"Suck them, honey," she said.
Lowering his head, he took a nipple into his mouth. Helen crooned, and held his head with her hands. He sucked and chewed the long nipple until the heat began to seep up from her crotch. She kept her hand on his cock, rubbing him to keep him stiff enough to give her a satisfactory fuck. She hoped he wasn't too tired to give her a good workout. Ralph never did anything more than straight fucking in the missionary position, but tonight she was so desperate she'd settle for anything-as long as she got that cock of his reaming out her cunt.
She finally pulled away from him and stretched out on the bed. Opening her legs, she showed him her dense bush of cunt-hair split by her wet, drooping cuntlips.
"Come on, honey," she said. "Give it to me!"
Her eyes lowered, she watched him remove his clothes. His cock came out dangling, not as hard as it had been at the beginning, but still looking serviceable. When he climbed onto the bed, she took his meat in her hand, gently manipulating his foreskin and tickling the ridge behind the knob of his cockhead.
It's crazy, she thought, I almost have to beg to get a few ounces of meat shoved into my hole.
Then he mounted her, quickly found her cunt-hole with his cockhead, and pushed in. She sensed he was tired, or maybe he just wasn't interested any more. He'd give her a no-nonsense fuck and then roll off and start snoring. She'd be lucky if she got an orgasm out of it.
He pumped in and out, not slow enough to be tender, and not fast enough to be exciting. This was one of those times when she wanted to be fucked hard, but she was afraid that if she asked for it, he'd either get angry or come too quickly.
She began moving her hips, bucking her pelvis to meet his thrusts. It wasn't bad. They'd been doing it for ten years and she still liked the feel of his cock in her cunt.
Raising up her legs, she hooked them over his ass. He began fucking more vigorously, his balls bouncing against her ass cheeks.
"Ooooh, that's good!" she hissed. "Don't stop, just keep going!"
When she realized he was too close to get her off, she started to panic.
"Don't stop!" she cried. "Please, don't stop! Keep fucking me!"
It was too late. She could feel him tighten up, she heard the grunt in his throat. A moment later he let out a deep groan and shot his load into the steaming channel of her frustrated cunt. She bucked her hips in a frenzy up to the end, churning her cunt against his cock, grinding her crotch against his body.
When he rolled off, she held back the rage and the tears and lay there like a limp rag-doll. She could feel his thick, heavy load of jism seeping out of her cunt-hole. A week had passed since they'd last fucked and his balls had been full.
At least he doesn't have another woman, she thought. That was something, wasn't it? It might be something, but it wasn't good enough. She needed more, she needed some changes in her life.