Chapter 11
Since the following week marked the beginning of Pete Dudley's vacation, there was nothing to deter his Tuesday afternoon date with petite, bespectacled black-haired June Wormsley. Her husband's vacation was to begin the following week, as it happened, and he and Eleanor Dudley had tentatively agreed on a motel rendezvous on the very same Tuesday when his wife and her husband would be the first to inaugurate the new marital ring-around-the-rosy planned by the Spanking Society, Ltd.
But that Tuesday morning, as Dave was about to go off to work, to his job as claims adjuster, he gave her a playful swat on the bottom, and told her, "I won't be home until at least midnight, honey, so that gives you all the time you want with dear old Pete."
"But...but I feel so funny, doing a thing like this," she blushed.
"I don't. You've got my blessing ...don't forget it. Maybe getting just a little bit jealous of me is just what you need, honey. To tell the truth, you look like a gangbang, and I hate to tell you, but we're going to start being real frank with each other from now on. That's Jack Caspar's whole idea. And I think it's going to save our marriage. Just pretend you're a little call girl trying to hide it from the neighbors and that Pete is sneaking up to have a little fun. Just let yourself go."
"You ...you're sure you don't mind?" she quavered.
"How do you feel about my seeing Pete's wife in a motel room tonight?" he countered.
"Well, as long as you still love me better, I guess it won't be so bad."
Dave Wormsley had chuckled and given her another playful slap on the behind. "That's the spirit, Junie! Well, don't wait up for me. But if I know dear old Pete, he's going to give you such a workout that you're going to be getting your beauty sleep sooner than you usually do tonight. Have fun, now!"
June Wormsley had sat around the house that morning listening to soap operas on TV, and then at noon took a shower, applied perfume and nervously consulted her wardrobe to select the costume in which she would receive her very first lover outside of marriage.
She finally chose her sheerest white nylon bra-and-panty set and a red satin housecoat and a pair of old fluffy blue mules which an elderly aunt had sent her for a wedding present. As she stared at her image in the bedroom mirror, adjusting her glasses, her cheeks were a vivid crimson as she realized that she was getting herself ready to be fucked by someone else besides her own darling Dave. But what he had said to her this morning had lingered, and it had hurt. She really didn't have much vanity about herself, but she'd always been told she looked like a real sexpot, and now to have Dave say that she didn't show enough pep in bed was really crushing. She put a hand behind her head and fluffed up her hair, remembering the stag movie whose brunette model Pete had-likened to her, and her blushes deepened. Well, if that's what Dave thought, maybe he just didn't appreciate her. And Pete had just about taken her breath away last Friday night, feeling her up all over and telling her how hot he was for her. Maybe the fault was Dave's, because she'd read about how men took their wives for granted and didn't make any extra special effort to please them. Maybe it was true she didn't know everything about sex, but the way Pete Dudley had acted Friday night didn't seem to show that there was anything wrong with her in the bed department.
As she continued to stare at her heart-shaped face, saw how the satin housecoat snugged over her bubbies and lush round hips, a kind of defiant indignation and almost reckless abandon came over her. She was going to show him, once and for all, how wrong he was. And maybe it would be lots of fun to let another man make love to her. Anyway, as long as he knew about it and wanted her to, he'd never have another kick coming, and he'd better not hold it up to her, ever, because she would tell him what she thought of a fellow who'd go off to a motel with somebody else's wife. Tentatively, her soft hands pressed her juicy bubbies, and she shivered. June Wormsley didn't know it, but for the first time in her young married life, she was beginning to get the urge for amorous adventuring ....
"C-come in, P-Pete," she faltered, as she opened the door and saw the wiry, black-haired, electronics salesman standing there with a knowing smile on his handsome face.
"Wow! Junie, did you put that on just for me?" he chuckled when he stepped inside, closed the door, and then put his hands on her bottom and gave her a kiss that took her breath away.
"Oh, my goodness! Watch out for my glasses, P-Pete, d-dear," she gasped. As he let her go, she straightened her glasses, and her face was frightened. She'd never felt so ...well, downright wicked in all her life before. It wasn't as if she were going to bed at night with her husband and knew they were going to make love. This was so different. In the middle of the day, another man coming over to see her so they could ...so they could do it together! Her pulses were hammering nervously, as she faltered, "Would you like a drink or something?"
"No, thanks, baby. Just you. I had a big lunch, to give me plenty of staying power. But there's no need to rush, Junie. I hear your guy has got a date with my Ellie out at a motel near O'Hare tonight, so it's a cinch he won't be home till real late. So we don't have to rush at all. Anyhow, I want to take plenty of time to get to know you better. And I mean, really know you. Come here and give me a nice big kiss, the way you did at the party."
Once again his hands found her round, resilient bottom-cheeks and squeezed them ardently as he pulled her to him, his mouth fusing with hers. June Wormsley whimpered at the fury of his sensual desire, and she could feel his stiff prick prodding at her crotch already, telegraphing to her the vigor of his manhood. Dave had never been so forthright; he'd always been sort of gentle with her, and so this too was different for her. When Pete Dudley at last let her go, she was trembling, and the blushes had spread to her throat and even the lobes of her dainty ears.
"Let's go find a nice couch where we can smooch some, Junie, and get all hot and bothered before we go to bed together," Pete Dudley was whispering as his hands took possession of her quivering, tensing buttocks and his mouth came down on hers, hard.
June Wormsley gasped and instinctively put her hands on his back to cling to him, feeling her legs waver beneath her. Her pulse beat in her lovely rounded throat and it was beating erratically at the end of that kiss.
"Why don't I get us both a drink and ...and we can go to the living room?"
"Sure. One drink never hurts. Though I don't need any extra stimulant except you, Junie, baby," he told her, as his hands slid up her waist now and squeezed her titties playfully. "Make mine bourbon on the rocks."
He gave her a wink and sauntered into the living room, taking off his suit coat and tossing it over the back of a chair; then he lit a cigarette and waited. He'd put on only undershorts, because it was a warm day and because it would mean less undressing when this cute little trick finally got ready to be fucked. What he really had a yen for doing with Junie Wormsley was making her sit astride him and keep his hands on those big juicy tits of hers while she arched her sweet ass up and down and impaled herself on his ramrod. She was just the size for it, too.
In a few moments, the petite brunette walked into the living room with a tray, on which there were two glasses. She'd poured herself a drink even stiffer than Pete's, for courage.
He took his and lifted his glass to toast her as she set the tray down on the glass topped coffee table and hesitantly sat down beside him.
"To our having a terrific time today, baby," was his toast, as he clinked glasses with her. "Bottoms up!"
He took a hearty swig of his drink, set it down and watched as she took a deep breath, and tilted the glass to her soft red lips. She rarely drank hard liquor, but this was an occasion that called for it. As the warm, burning liquor went down, she gasped and choked, then regained her breath and closed her eyes. Now she felt quivery all over, and her heart had begun to pound very fast.
Before she knew what he was about, Pete Dudley was already tugging down the zipper at the bodice of the housecoat, and he had his right hand on her bra-sheathed tittie, and his mouth was covering hers, and his tongue was delving between her lips, while his left hand was stroking the back of her neck, pressing her against the back of the couch and leaning over her. She spluttered a little, squirmed, put her hands up against his chest almost defensively, then closed her eyes and submitted. The pulse beat was hammering wildly now, and the nipple of the tittie he was massaging with his palm had hardened and there was an exquisite, tormenting twinge in it.
"We're going to hit it off just great together, Junie, I can tell," he panted hoarsely, as he slid his hand around her back now and hunted for the fasteners of the bra. Finding them, he worked the bra off and then put his right hand back on her naked tittie and began to kiss her again.
June Wormsley moaned, and now her arms locked convulsively around him again as she felt an exquisite, titillating warmth pervade her loins and breasts. By now Pete Dudley had worked his other hand into the open bodice of her housecoat and had captured both panting titties, and was massaging them lovingly, rubbing his palms over the hardening nipple buds and without releasing her mouth from his long sucking kiss. June Wormsley forgot to warn him about her glasses, which were getting smudged now.
"You've got gorgeous bubbies, sweetie," he praised her in a thick, shuddering voice, "and I can't wait to see all the rest of you. You're a lot better than that model in the movie, take it from me. Dave must be out of his cotton-picking skull, calling you a dud in bed!"
"Oh ...he didn't say that ...did ...did he, honest, Pete?" she gasped, her cheeks again flaming.
"He's been griping for weeks now, whenever we guys get together at the Northwestern Station, Junie. To hear him tell it, you're just like a statue, no feelings. Man, is he ever wrong! You're sort of hot and bothered already, and I haven't even begun to work on you. I'll show you!"
With this, bending his head, he took one of her nipples between his lips and began to suck it, and to flick the tip of his tongue against the crinkly bud. June Wormsley moaned, her hands closed tightly against the back of his neck, and she surrendered herself to the exquisite sensation of being carnally adored by another man. Her pussy had begun to twitch, and she was inflamed with desire such as she had never known before. With it, there was a kind of vindictive spite, to prove to Pete Dudley that her husband had shamefully and wrongly appraised her.
Maybe she could even show Pete that she was just as good as that auburn-haired wife he had, and she was certainly going to try.
"like it, honey?" Pete muttered, as he looked up at her.
Scarlet-faced, June Wormsley nodded, and then closed her eyes again. This time his lips found the other nipple and nuzzled it with his teeth, while he flicked it with his tongue, and she moaned and gasped as myriad sensations swirled through her nervous system. She crossed her legs, clamping her thighs together to diminish the now furiously itching sensation in her pussy, for she was almost frightened of the passionate longing that had overcome all her demure and ingenuous reticence.
"Why don't you slip off that housecoat, so you could be more comfy, baby?" Pete Dudley murmured.
June Wormsley gasped and sat up, beginning to tug the yawning sheath down from her hips. He stood up, lifted her by the hands and tugged it down to festoon her ankles. As she kicked it away from her feet, he lifted her up and carried her off into the bedroom, clad in just her white nylon panties and flurry blue mules. And as they reached the threshold of the very bedroom where she and Dave had had their connubial comings-together, bespectacled June kicked off the mules as a kind of gesture of defiance, as a kind of serving notice on Dave that he wasn't going to get another chance to say such wicked things about her.
Pete Dudley laid her down on the bed, then swiftly drew off his trousers, shoes and socks. His prick was bulging, and when he saw June lying there, still wearing her glasses, one arm covering her face, her eyes closed, her nipple buds hard and pointed from his oral salutations, he uttered an oath under his breath and clambered naked onto the bed, his prick bobbing in swollen tumescence as he moved to her.
June uttered a cry as she felt his fingers insert under the waistband of her nylon panties and yank the last veil down to her knees; and then she cried out again and lifted her head to stare down at him as she saw his face bury itself against the black thatch of her twitching cunt-hole.
Dave Wormsley had never gamahuched her-and so this was new to her. At first, she was frantically ashamed, trying to clench her thighs, but his hands gently yet firmly forced them apart to give his mouth and tongue full access to that temple of delight. And when she felt his lips press an avid, burning kiss against her slit, she uttered a sobbing cry and her hands cupped her own heaving bubbies as her face began to turn restlessly back and forth on the pillow.
Pete Dudley was enchanted. From the way she was squirming that lovely ass of hers, it was quite evident that nobody had ever muff dived this sweet piece of snatch before, not even her own husband. He had stolen a march on Dave Wormsley, and he grinned triumphantly to himself as he kept on doing it. His tongue kept on working deftly, until he found her clitoris, and June Wormsley again lifted her head and uttered a sobbing cry. "Oh, what are you doing to me ... oh, Pete! Oh, my Lord ...oh, it tickles ...oohhh-haahhhhh!"
"Just relax and enjoy it, Junie baby. Let yourself go and don't hold back," he instructed. Again his tongue found the stiffening nodule of her love-button, plying it with rapid, grazing touches, burying it back in its hidden cowl of pussy flesh, letting it spring up only to attack it again, rolling it from side to side.
June Wormsley arched up one knee, swung it back and forth, and now her fingers had begun to claw the rumpled sheets of the bed as she felt herself being drawn towards sensations which she had never experienced before.
"Ohhaahhhhh ...oh, Pete ...oh, stop! You're driving me c-crazy ...I'm going to faint! What are you doing? Oh, what are you doing to me? ... Aahhhhh!"
He stood up now, his prick savagely demanding its own relief. He stared greedily down at her squirming body. Then he husked the rumpled panties off her completely and tossed them to the floor and, gripping her dimpled knees, forced them well apart as he came to her. He forced himself between the pink, moist lips of her cunt, found the entry and moved forward over her as his cock embedded itself into her tight, humid sheath.
June Wormsley uttered a wild cry, and her arms and legs ardently received her new lover, clamping over him and pinioning her to him as he felt himself hilted inside her love scabbard. Then he thrust his mouth over hers, and his tongue was delving deeper between her lips, and she was lost. There was a throbbing anguish in her cunt, and her nipples ached with longing; and she began to rake his shoulders with her tinted fingernails as she whimpered and squirmed under him. He could feel her round bubbies flatten under his hairy chest. And, now, he began to fuck her, slowly and deliberately, grinding his teeth to hold back the savage impulse to ejaculate. Her cunt was tight and warm and squeezed his ramrod every inch of the way.
Now his hands slipped under her and took possession of her round, satiny bare ass-cheeks again, squeezing them hard as he quickened himself, digging with deep, rapid lunges as he made her sob and groan and twist her body about under him.
Her glasses were misted now, and she couldn't see through them, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the cumulatively maddening sensations that made her want to soar into space, to clutch him with her legs and arms and try to urge him to project her into outer space forever. She had begun to groan, husky, sobbing with a vehemence which told of her emotional excitement, and now her tongue began to return his delving caresses, rubbing his in a sweet cohesion as she participated frantically in what was happening to her.
Pete Dudley couldn't hold it back any longer. He thrust frantically to and fro inside of her, and then uttered a bellow of joy as he felt himself explode inside her with his molten jet.
As she felt it, June Wormsley arched herself up and shifted her legs over his bottom, her tongue gouging into his mouth frantically, and with a sobbing cry her body jerked and swerved and bucked in the throes of answering climax.
They lay there together enmeshed in a long aftermath of sweet oblivion, till their pulses slacked, and until Pete Dudley admiringly gasped, "You just about killed me, Junie. I don't know what's wrong between you and Dave, but any time you want to move over to my place, there'll be a bed for you, and me in it! Oh, wow! Now let's go tidy up and then try it a different way. You know how I want to screw you, Junie?"
She shook her head, breathless, her face flushed, her eyes dilated and humid, glorying in her newly found role of bedroom siren.
"Anything you want. Oh, darling, I thought I was going to die, it was so beautiful!" she breathed.
"It'll be more so. I'm going to sit you on my lap, baby and let you go up and down on my pole, and squeeze those big juicy titties of yours and bite the back of your neck and lick your ears and give it to you until you faint," he promised, as he disengaged himself and reached for the pack of cigarettes he had laid on the night table.
June Wormsley giggled, stared adoringly at him, and then got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. When she stared at the mirror, she giggled again and proudly cupped her breasts and almost flaunted herself before it. It was going to be a long and unforgettable afternoon, for sure, and if Pete wanted to stay even until Dave came back home tonight, she wasn't going to be the one to tell him to leave.