Chapter 2
Hank Bailey picked up his wife from the neighborhood health club.
"Do you have time for me tonight?" Sylvia asked, trying to keep the plea out of her voice. She hated to beg any man for anything. She particularly hated to beg her husband to fuck her. "We haven't made love in a couple of weeks."
After his afternoon with Penny and Ginger, or whoever the hell they were, Hank felt pretty damned good. He just hoped he could get it up again so soon. Those two little wenches could get cum out of a brass monkey.
"Sure, honey," he said congenially. "Didn't realize it had been that long."
Sylvia snorted inwardly. He knew. He always knew. She trapped him by asking him to drive her to the health club and pick her up, so he couldn't weasel out this time. She knew he regularly fucked younger women. She put up with his dalliances because half a loaf was better than none. That's what she got for marrying for security instead of love.
While Hank showered, Sylvia stood in front of the mirror, ran her fingers through her long blonde hair and looked deep into her face. Deep in her gut, she knew she looked old. She was only thirty-eight, two years older than Hank, but still she worried every day about becoming a wrinkled old woman and losing Hank to a younger woman.
She practically lived at the health club, working out for hours every day. She wished Hank would take the time to notice her efforts. He was always too busy, too worried about his job, too preoccupied with his football, or whatever excuse he could think up on the spur of the moment.
She stepped back and looked at her reflection of the full-length mirror. Her five-foot, six-inch frame was lean and trim. Her firm, luxurious breasts only helped to emphasize the slimness of her waist and well-rounded hips. Her deep blue eyes, fringed with long lashes, carefully checked the thick, flowing strawberry-blonde hair, the flawless creamy skin, the sprinkle of freckles across the top of her breasts, the happy mouth that no longer smiled as much as it should.
Sylvia knew that she was beautiful, that the bits and pieces of her face were put together in just the right way, but it didn't matter if Hank didn't notice, or didn't care any more.
A king-size bed sat in the middle of the large room. She had furnished the room carefully, to achieve just the right blend of comfort and sensuousness. An ornately carved, full-length mirror stood by the fireplace. Next to it stood an antique chaise covered in woven material of multiple shades of soft rose to deepest burgundy. A low oblong antique table sat at the end of the bed. On it sat a bouquet of champagne-colored roses.
A heavy, luxuriously soft, furry bedspread covered the bed. A multitude of pillows in various sizes, in all shades of rose, cream and burgundy were artfully arranged at the head of the bed.
She lay on the chaise and tingled as she waited for Hank to come out of the shower. She closed her eyes and pictured his firm, tan body, thick brown hair, dancing brown eyes, and divine, sensual lips. He exuded sex appeal. She really couldn't blame the women who flocked after him. She just wished that she was secure enough in herself not to feel jealous or lonely when he paid attention to them.
Hank approached her, fresh from his shower, smelling of English Leather.
Sylvia felt the old familiar stirring in her loins. "Lie beside me," she whispered. "Touch me. Kiss my nipples. Lick me between the legs."
"Tell me you want me to lick your pussy," he said gruffly as he lay down by her.
She closed her eyes and shivered. "I want you to lick my pussy," she whispered. "Suck my cunt until I scream. Fuck me out of my stupid mind!"
Hank surrounded one lovely pink nipple with tender lips and let his tongue flutter lightly on the tip of the bud of turgid flesh.
His touch sent sparks of carnal pleasure shooting through her and opened the floodgate of her passion. She felt her nipples stiffen and her large tits swell.
"Harder!" she said. "Suck my tits! Chew on my nipples!"
"Now you're talking my language," he muttered.
He surrounded one areola with a full-mouthed, firm kiss, and began to lash the tip of her tit with his tongue. She squirmed with lust and tangled her fingers in his hair. She curled the fingers of her other hand and raked her long, sharp nails harshly up his spine.
He sucked and licked and chewed on her rock-hard nipple while his hand slipped down her flat belly and between her shapely thighs. He palmed her fleece-covered mound, raised his head and fastened his lips to hers for a deep kiss.
He licked the soft inner flesh of her lips as his fingers roughly parted the delicate folds of flesh at the top of her slit. His rough treatment, and the knowledge that he would soon put his mouth on her pussy, made her passion mount. Her breath came in sharp, deep gasps.
He drove his tongue into her humid mouth and plunged his finger into her sopping hole. She sucked rigorously on his tongue and lunged her cunt at his finger. He rolled her clitoris roughly beneath his finger. Her hips began to churn and hump vigorously.
Hank licked along Sylvia's jaw and sucked a hickey on her neck. He gently bit her tender skin as his mouth moved down to her tits. He bit her nipples and licked under her tit and along the lower part of the mound. He took the bountiful mounds of flesh in his hands and squeezed them hard, made her nipples pop out, and bit the sensitive buds again. He slid lower and nipped until he reached his wife's belly button.
He stabbed his tongue into the indentation, and felt her shiver and inflate her belly. He went lower on her delicately flavored flesh, leaving a wet trail of sharp little nibbles. He paused at the hairline above her reddish blonde mound and ran his tongue back and forth through the curls. She arched her hips off the chaise as she pushed on the top of his head, urging him to go lower.
"Lick my cunt!" she hissed between clenched teeth. He was driving her nearly mad, intensifying the dire ache between her legs. With excruciating slowness, he inched his way down to her steaming snatch. "Suck my cunt! Bite my clit!"
He changed tactics, going from harsh to teasing, increasing her desperation. The tip of his tongue danced over her cunt lips as lightly as a butterfly landing on an orchid.
"Lick my cunt, damn you!" she moaned. "You're driving me crazy!"
"I know," he chuckled. "And you love it."
She shoved her tormenter's head down and threw her snatch at his face. At long last, he plastered his mouth to her aching, sopping slit. A sigh of near volcanic magnitude burst out of her throat.
"Aaahhh, yesss! That's it, lover! That's what I want, what I need so badly. Lick my clit, bite it, make it feel good!" she moaned as she tossed her head from side to side. Her long mane of strawberry-blonde hair covered and uncovered her passion-wracked face.
Hank tongued and sucked and nipped the swollen bud of her clit until it throbbed with a mixture of pleasure and pain. He cupped the distended knob with his lips and twirled his rapidly moving tongue around it. Sylvia's moans became louder as her passion mounted. If someone had been eavesdropping, they would have thought he was torturing her.
As it happened, someone did listen to her moans with great interest. Two people, dressed in black spandex outfits, black sneakers and black ski masks. They didn't care about her welfare. Her moans told them they didn't have to worry about getting caught as they efficiently, quietly, went about the business of selecting the most valuable booty to stuff in their sacks.
"Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!" Sylvia groaned over and over.
Her hips settled into a steady, rhythmic rocking. Her rounded ass cheeks went higher off the chaise with each upward thrust as she churned toward orgasm. She began to knead her throbbing tit mounds. She grabbed her tender tit tips between her forefingers and thumbs and twisted them until the fat buds pulsated. The electric-like shocks from her tits and Hank's mouth on her cunt had her awash with passion.
Hank looked up and watched his wife's busy fingers play on her tits and worry her taut, rubber-like nipples. He increased the fervor of his licking, drove his tongue deep into her flowing pussy and tasted the sweet musk of her secretions.
Sylvia's hips snapped up and down vigorously and gyrated wildly. "My God! My God! I'm going to cum, baby, I'm going to cum! I can't stand it! I can't stand it! Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't ever stop! Let me die this way!" she mumbled. Her eyes rolled up in her head. Her body went into spasms as her orgasm built to a crescendo. It seemed an eternity before the hedonistic sensations began to subside.
He thought she would break his neck with her strong legs before her frantic movements stopped. He pushed her legs apart, ran the tip of his tongue over her shrinking pleasure button, then crawled up and lay down by her.
"God, that was good!" she murmured as she snuggled her husband's face between her large tit mounds.
The two silent, black-clad figures downstairs swung their bags of loot over their shoulders and stole out of the house like two Santa Clauses in reverse.
Sylvia lifted her husband's prick and looked at it admiringly. She loved to look at and fondle his long, thick prong. The shaft began to thicken as she pulled on it. She wondered if she should jack him off, suck him off, or fuck him. She decided she would jerk and suck him a few minutes, then top-fuck him. She got on her knees and took him in her mouth. Her head began to bob slowly up and down, her hot mouth covering his dick, her tongue barely touching it. She reached between his legs and began to yank and squeeze his balls with a pressure just short of painful. She flicked her tongue back and forth, then suddenly wrapped it around the glans, bringing a groan of excitement from his lips. He lifted his head and stared at his beautiful wife as she gnawed on his bone. She slid her tongue up the underside of his dick with a rippling movement, then opened her mouth wide and let the head of his phallus slip into her throat.
Abruptly, she lifted her head, swung her leg over him, and sat down on his rod. "Lie still," she whispered hotly. "Let me fuck you."
Hank tensed all over as her hot, slippery channel engulfed his cock. Waves of sensations washed over him as her dynamic muscles applied pressure to his throbbing shaft.
Sylvia reached into her crotch and began to frig her clit as she rode his cock hard. Her sex gun fired almost immediately, then again and again. She slowed to catch her breath and felt his cock swell. Dismounting quickly, she grabbed his prick, held her open mouth over the crown and began to jerk him rapidly. She reached down with her other hand and squeezed his nuts.
His hips began to hunch up and down. She increased the speed of her jerking. His breathing became labored. She increased her speed again, jacking him as fast as she could. She felt his cock swell. She continued to jerk him rapidly, caught the crown of his cock between her lips and applied strong suction. He erupted and began to pump his semen into her suctioning mouth. He put one hand behind her head to hold it steady as he thrust his dick into her oral depths.
She ate his cum and continued to flog his dick as she slowly swallowed his pulsating shaft. She took him so far she had to stop beating his prick. She held her lips against the side of her hand as he gave her the last of his load and his huge prick began to droop. She did a thorough job of draining him, taking every drop of his cum, leaving his prick as clean as if she had washed it.
"God, baby, that was wonderful, just wonderful," he moaned. "I love to cum that way."
Why don't we do it more often? I love to suck your cock. I love the way you eat my pussy. And I love to fuck you. Why don't you pay more attention to me? Why do you run around fucking young women when you have all the pussy you can handle right here at home? My pussy might not be quite as tight as theirs, but I can make up for it with skill and knowledge and desire. I fuck you because I love you. They fuck you because they want something!
"I'm famished!" he said, interrupting her thoughts just as she was about to speak. "Let's go downstairs and get a snack."
"Okay," she agreed. Why don't you say something? Tell him you want him home more often. Why do you always chicken out at the last moment and let a bad situation continue? "Fucking always makes me hungry."
As they crossed the living room, Sylvia let out a little cry and grabbed Hank's hand. "Something is wrong, Hank," she whispered, "I have the strangest feeling. Turn on the lights!"
"You're just being spooky," he said. "You've always been afraid of the dark."
"No, this is different. Someone has been here. I can feel it. Turn on the lights!"
Hank sighed with resignation and crossed the room to turn on the lights. Sylvia looked around and gasped.
"I told you! The Monet painting is gone!" She hurried into the dining room and turned on the lights. "They took our sterling silver tea service your folks gave us as a wedding gift." She opened the drawers of the buffet. "The silverware and solid silver napkin rings and my antique Irish lace linen. Everything of value is gone, Hank! Everything!"
"Whoever did it sure is gutsy," Hank said, looking around the room. "Walked right in here while we were home. Left everything as neat as a pin. Almost like they knew what they were after. Weird!"
"God, it scares the hell out of me to think they were down here robbing us while we were upstairs making love! Call the police."