Chapter 1
Squeak....
John Hallman rubbed the chalk against his cuetip and eyed the pool table. It was going to be a good night.
"You shooting for the new couple across the street?" Beth Hallman glanced leisurely at her naked husband as he prepared the cue for a shot.
"I think they're a good target," he said, leaning over the table and aiming at the cue ball. He slid the ornately carved pool stick expertly through his bridged index finger.
"What makes you think they'll swing?" Beth asked, dipping her fingers into the martini glass to retrieve the green olive with its vulgar red pimento innards dangling from it like an extended clitoris.
"Did you ever meet a woman I couldn't get to swing, or a man you couldn't turn on with a swish of your naked ass?"
"We are beautiful, aren't we," Beth said spreading her naked legs and rubbing her V tenderly as she sipped the martini.
"Beautifully ugly."
Beth watched her husband's muscular, hairy body as he stalked the table, brushing pieces of lint from the soft green top. He picked up the triangular rack and shuffled the balls into place, plucking one from here and putting it there, repeating the shift in another spot.
The sounds of the balls clicking together as John fondled them into place excited her. She shut her eyes and let her hand rest on her breast. Moving it in slow, circular motions, she felt the nipple harden like a marble under her palm.
Squeak.
In her mind she could see the balls lined in a V. John was standing at the opposite end of the table, his banana-shaped penis swaying as he crouched for the break shot. His breathing was heavy and a stillness settled over the room.
SMACK-plunk.
"What did you get?"
"Sixty-nine, that's what I shot for."
Beth let a scythelike smile curve across her flushed face. She could feel her skin tingling with excitement at the thought of John's lips nibbling at her vagina.
"Shoot again for afterwards," she cooed, letting her hand massage the inside of her thigh. "Shoot for dog fashion."
She shook her long, auburn hair and listened for the squeak of the cuetip against the chalk. She cringed and shivered as she heard the noise. Her hand began to slide up and down her slit in long, even motions as she waited for the clack of balls to signal John's next shot.
"Dog fashion, coming up." She glanced over and watched her husband aiming down the long, tapered cue. She let her eyes measure his muscular forearms, his tensed biceps, his hairy, defined chest. She let her blue eyes lock on his deep-set brown eyes with their heavy, busy black eyebrows. She noticed his tense, scrunched forehead as he concentrated on the shot. She saw his muscular jaw clamp shut and the single dimple punctuate his concern for making the shot.
SMACK-plunk.
"Dog fashion," he said, straightening and letting the cue rest against his naked side. He turned toward her and she let her gaze drop to his groin to admire his hard, rippling stomach and eight-inch penis which hung invitingly between his hairy, thick legs.
"I don't know why you want other women when I'm all you can take care of," she said softly, letting her tongue flick out against her lips.
"Maybe because I know you like the men I bring along with the women," he said, putting the cue back in the rack.
"Bring me the balls," Beth said huskily as she squirmed on the sofa. "Let me see what I've earned tonight."
She watched John's graceful, masculine motions as he gathered the two balls he had sunk and moved toward her with one in each hand. She felt the couch sagging under his weight as he settled beside her, letting his naked thighs rest against her side.
"Regalo, " he said, handing her the two pool balls.
She raised them and turned them until the figures were visible. The ivory-colored ball in her left hand was painted with two figures going down on each other. She focused on the artwork. It was perfection and had cost John a fortune to have painted by Mashimoto, one of Japan's most well-known silk-screen artists. The figures were so lifelike they sent chills up her spine just looking at them. She could see the man's mouth locked on the woman's vagina, and see his penis being sucked deeply into her mouth. It were as if the balls were small worlds, containing only those two persons in their erotic wonderland. Beth squeezed the ball and shut her eyes, imagining what it would be like in just a moment when John was down on her, licking and lapping and sucking at her as no other man had ever been able to do.
Resting the one ball on her stomach, Beth studied the other from a distance. The detailed painting depicted a woman, on her hands and knees like a dog, with a man positioned behind her, thrusting his penis deeply into her. The woman was looking back over her shoulder, a mask of apprehensive joy on her face. Just looking at the picture made Beth quiver. For a moment, she forgot about her husband's nearness, about the desire she had to satisfy him. All she could think of were the other thirteen balls and their respective drawings. Each one meant something special to her, for she had performed the fifteen different sexual acts over and over again - whenever John felt like it. And she had always helped him to get the other couples down here, talking them into a game - an innocent pool game that ended up with the guests as the eight ball.
"Ummm." Beth felt John's tongue as it licked up the slender curve of her neck. His tongue was smooth, practiced, urgent.
"Ummmm," she replied, setting the balls carefully on the floor and snaking her arms around her husband's neck. "Why do you turn me on so?"
"Because I play pool naked. What else would turn a woman like you on?" He brushed her lips with his chin as she felt his right hand creep up her side and press at the edges of her breast. He never dived into sex like a thirsty maniac; he was perpetually slow, savoring every moment of the foreplay. His hands were commanding as they played up the firm, round underside of her breast. He let his fingers squeeze toward the nipple in smaller and smaller circles until he had the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He rolled the thumb-shaped peak until it was stiff and a deep, dark brown.
"Do you think that young thing across the street has nipples like mine?" Beth's voice was ragged, but she liked nothing more than teasing him when he was getting hot -it made him hotter.
"Nipples. Who has nipples like yours, Beth? Who?" He reached out and caught her nipple in his teeth and shook his head back and forth. He sucked in the distended tip and laved it with his tongue while his hand caressed the fork of her thighs.
"Does she have a nice ass?"
"Nice, innocent, but not like yours, baby." He let his hands slip under her cheeks and pinched the loose flesh. Beth squealed and shoved herself at him.
"Did it look virgin?"
"Her ass?"
"Yes."
"It looked good, Beth. It looked virgin."
"You're rotten," Beth said, scratching his testicles and sucking at his masculine nipple. "You're really rotten."
"No more than my own little bitch," he said, jabbing her in the ass with his thumb until she squealed. She ground on the thumb until he felt it slip up into her.
"What's the prick like?" she grunted, pulling him near her and wiggling her tits into his chest.
"Looks weak. You know. The pasty kind of guys who always screw with their socks on and only come once a week. You won't have any trouble with him, Beth. You never have any trouble. Do you?"
"Only trying to satisfy you," she purred as she felt his teasing thumb slip out of her rectum.
"Did you have anything planned especially for your new targets?" John asked, pushing back a dangling strand of Beth's auburn hair.
"The usual. Maybe the big B. I liked it last time."
"But they didn't stick around to enjoy the payoff," John said, rubbing the cheeks of her ass vigorously. "I spent all that time and energy and they ended up just like a couple of dogs in heat."
"I know," Beth said sadly, heaving her voluptuous chest and feeling her hardened nipples drive into his chest. "I really had hopes for them. They were so cute and young...."
"Tut, tut, don't cry over spilled -"
"Cum?"
"You're getting rotten, wife, really rotten."
"Foul, filthy, shitty, stinky-cunt me," Beth laughed and scissored John's waist with her thighs. "Now, are you game for putting it to our friendly little pair moving in across the street?" she said, grinding her vagina into his groin.
"Have I ever failed to keep our little swap box full of tasty little morsels?" John laughed, slapping her on the buttocks and curling his lips back. "They're yours, honey," he said defiantly. "Take them."
"You lecher," Beth said, playfully swatting at his face. "I bet you'd eat little girls in the park if you thought you could get away with it."
"What makes you think I haven't already?" He glared down at her, cocking one eye, twitching his nostrils.
"Because I haven't been out sucking little boys. Remember we married each other because we were both as corrupt as the other."
John laughed. The worried lines in his forehead smoothed. His hands began to trace the length of Beth's thigh, stopping at her V to tickle the slit until it dripped.
Beth's hands rubbed his hairy legs. She reached down and grabbed his half-stiff cock and began pulling it back and forth until it was completely erect.
"Ummm. I'd like some of that now. Some all of it."
"You'll get it, baby. But after we follow the rules. The balls said sixty-nine and dog fashion."
John leaned back and Beth's legs scissored up around his head. He felt her soft, warm thighs squeezing his temples as he whiffed the pungent, exciting odor of her juicy slit. Rolling over on top of him, she ground her pelvis down, hunching it against his chin until she felt his probing tongue jabbing into her.
She nuzzled into his crotch, running her slender fingers through his crisp, crinkly pubic hairs. Giggling, Beth lifted his balls and dropped them, enjoying the slapping sound they made as they bounced against his ass. She giggled again and grabbed his cock in both hands. Jacking it up and down, she began to hum a rhythmic tune to her beats, matching her tempo to that of John's tongue as it beat in and out of her vagina like a lizard's tongue. Her joyful thrusts became more and more serious as John's tongue lanced in deeply, banging the clitoris, nipping at it, smashing it.
Beth lowered her head over the top of John's stiff cock. She had her jaws wide open and once the head was centered, she clomped down, jabbing at the cock-slit with her small, spear-tipped tongue and sucking wildly. His rod filled her mouth and his balls slapped up under her chin as he humped into her. She could hear him sucking and slurping and blowing at her orifice as she did the same at his. One of her hands slipped through his legs and she began to touch his asshole tenderly with her fingertip. As his tongue jabs became more intense, she pushed her finger into the opening, feeling the tight tissues envelop it, suck at it. They were humping wildly, making loud suckling noises.
Beth tensed as the shudder began to grip her. It was a long, interminable feeling that started at her brain and quaked down through every part of her until it seemed to splash out her vagina to be sucked up by his mouth. It came. The same exciting feeling as always and Beth screamed as she jabbed the finger deeply into his ass.
John's orgasm was nearing too. He thrust wildly at the woman, driving his cock as far into her as he could. She was whimpering, signaling the beginning of her climax.
John squeezed his eyes shut and thought of the new couple across the street. He thought of the wife's beautiful ass, the ass that had commanded his attention from the first moment. Oooh, he thought, as he felt the semen creeping out toward Beth, I can just taste those thighs, smell that pussy, feel that ass. Ummm. He rammed at Beth's mouth, feeling her suck him deep into her. He leaned back, reared his head, and, snorting like a bull, clutched her breasts in his hands and howled. He howled until every ounce of jism spurted into her.
Nibbling at his ear, her body wet with perspiration, Beth began to stroke his thigh and buttocks. She wondered if the man across the street would be as hairy, would be as satisfying. The last one wasn't, or the one before that. They only stayed for such a short while, and then moved on. But maybe, Beth hoped, maybe after it was all over this couple would stay.
"Do you think they'll last?" she asked John.
"You mean the new couple?"
"Yes."
"I hope so. I have some big plans for them. They'll eat it up before we're through."
"I hope so," Beth said wistfully, and then she began to think about doing it dog fashion and nothing else mattered.