Chapter 8

Scott didn't need to draw pictures for Joyce. She knew where her duty lay and she seemed prepared to carry it out. Jim rubbed his eyes in disbelief. To think that his own wife ... with this man who was almost a stranger to her. It was incredible.

Jim thrust his hands into his pockets as he sat and watched the show. Tugging mightily, he pushed his prick down between his legs. It had been poking painfully through his shorts and against the rough zipper of his fly.

The maneuver was dangerous, for he almost went off again. He swallowed and sat perfectly still, holding his cock down with his knees clamped together like a vise. Then he lifted his eyes to the spectacle taking place before him.

Scott was standing before Joyce, his feet planted a dozen inches apart, his sweaty body heaving. His chest and shoulders glistened and below his shorts barely clung to his hips. They sagged open at the front and his prick was still out, away out, waving at Joyce's throat.

Joyce seemed hypnotized by the sight of the waving penis. Her eyes darted back and forth in the brief arc in which the cock maneuvered. She swallowed and then she looked up into Scott's face.

He smiled at her, but there was a tugging at the corner of his mouth as he obviously struggled to keep his cock from exploding before he'd finished his game. "All right, my dear. Now don't be nervous. All you've got to do is to get down there and do a little something for me. After all, dear James accommodated you very nicely."

Joyce nodded. "Whatever you say. I ... I don't want to let you down at this point...."

His laugh was a harsh bark. "Not-likely!"

She hesitated and her eyes wavered to Jim. He tried to smile in encouragement, but her eyes dropped to his crotch and distaste flooded her face. She'd seen how aroused her husband was, how the fact that she was being degraded had in some perverted way turned him on-full blast.

Jim was also ashamed, but he was no less hot. He got even hotter when Scott gave his next command.

"All right, honey, get down on your knees. Right in front of me."

The naked Joyce, lovely and still seething with a passion of her own, knelt before him. She moved swiftly and in a jerking motion, for she seemed to be uncoordinated. Her body was still pink like the petals of a rose and her blue eyes were soft with desire.

"Very good," Scott continued and he gently placed a finger on the top of her golden head. Then he took the hand away and he put both hands behind his back, joining his fingers. He stood like a soldier at parade rest, his body fully open to her. Only the soggy shorts covered his hips and thighs.

"You might as well drop them first," he snapped.

She worked at his hips and the shorts slid down his thighs. She tugged until his feet came closer together so they could plunge to the carpet. He wore no undershorts and when he kicked them across the study he was naked.

He went back to parade rest and she remained on her knees, her supplication before this brute of a man making Jim hotter than ever. The spectacle of this gorgeous beauty and this hairy creature was terribly erotic for Jim. He wondered if he had some queerness in him, because he couldn't make it in the normal way-but seeing his wife like this....

He shook his head as his cock gave a little spurt and he had to tighten his hot thighs or lose everything. Then he continued to watch.

Scott smiled down at her. "All right, you may touch me. You may touch the master, my dear. I'll make you rich, I'll make you a queen if you do the job right."

Joyce swallowed and Jim could see her fear. But the fear was held in check by her heat. She had to be fucked and fucked in the worst way. She was hotter than she'd ever been on their honeymoon and at that time Jim had seen her female fear of his body being broken down by her need to be screwed.

She wiggled forward on her knees until she was only inches from his prick. It was a giant shaft and getting bigger as Scott struggled not to explode. Christ, everybody in the room seemed to be seconds away from orgasm.

Her sigh was audible as her hand came up. It touched him. There was no fooling around. She didn't touch his shoulder, his belly, or his thigh. Her fingers came to rest on the shaft of his swollen cock.

Then Jim heard Scott's sigh. It was the sigh of a man enjoying supreme contentment. He was surprised that the man was able to keep from going off at the faint touch. But he kept his jism in check-at least for the time being.

Scott smiled down at the servant girl, who sat back on her haunches. The movement made her thighs flatten beautifully against her calves. She looked like a piece of calendar art in one of those high class girl magazines. Nothing cheap. Just true beauty which drew out true sexual passion from all who watched.

Joyce moved her fingers along the shaft, very slowly, edging them out toward the knob. She looked up into Scott's face often, apparently judging how far along he was, being careful not to bring him forth too suddenly. She tried to smile into his face, but the agony of her position, her own restless passion, made it impossible.

At last her fingers were right behind the flange and she ran the tip of a finger all around its rim. Then she withdrew a few inches so she could wrap her fingers around the shaft. Jim knew he would have gone off by this time but apparently Scott's age made him somewhat slower. But he'd go off, there was no doubt of that.

"Don't pump," Scott whispered in a warning. "That would end it all."

She nodded and her fingers relaxed as they slid back to the knob. She rested the purple thing in her palm as Scott rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. God, Jim himself was going out of his mind. The agony of it. His own wife holding another man's cock in her hand!

Her fingers came around the knob and she tightened her grip just once. Scott cried out and Jim could almost hear the churning of the bank president's sperm. But Scott struggled to keep it inside and-for the moment-his body held the load in check.

He then made Joyce remove her hand. "You keep that up and we'll never get to the final act."

"Final act?" Joyce stammered.

"Of course. Why do you think you're down there? Go ahead, put your hands behind your back."

"What?"

"Behind your back, just like mine are behind mine."

Joyce cast a wavering glance toward Jim as she locked her fingers over her bottom. She sat back on her thighs, her feet tucked under her so that her toes pointed straight back. "All right, is this what you want?"

"Yes. Now lean forward."

Joyce lifted her thighs and did, indeed, lean forward. She looked so beautiful to Jim, her breasts swaying out as her body was suspended at an angle. When her face was only a few inches from Scott's rock-like prick, she paused.

"Keep coming," Scott commanded.

Joyce paused and she shook her head. "No. I'm hot, I'll admit that. Mr. Enghsh. And I know I promised to ... service ... you, but I've never done this sort of thing in my life. I'm certainly not going to start now."

Scott's voice came at her like a whip and even this was a turn-on for Jim. "Look, sister, you're not making it with your old man. You're inhibited. You play like a middle aged woman and you're hardly 21. Christ, you should be able to make a regiment shoot its load by showing them a fringe of your panties. You're being tested, woman. This is the test, right now. Are you a whole woman or aren't you?"

Joyce looked grim, but she was still hot, still panting. "I'm a woman all right. Look at what my husband's own hands did to me."

"Great, but nobody's gone off yet. And the test of a real woman is whether she'll do anything to please a man. Christ, you won't be degrading yourself. You'll be completing your first lesson in bow to be sexy." Scott whipped his eyes to Jim. "What do you say? Do you want to see her really blow my mind-to coin a phrase-or do you want to see the same old conventional coupling on the floor?"

Jim swallowed and he knew he was, in the same manner, being tested. If there was any advantage to swapping, this was the time to see if it were true. He nodded very slowly, until Scott's eyes lighted in triumph.

"You see? Jim approves. He knows how important this lesson is. He's learning from me, and so are you. Believe me, when you get home Sunday night you'll make beautiful music together."

Still kneeling, beautiful in her nakedness, Joyce cast a clouded glance at Jim. Then she roamed her eyes up and down Scott's nude body, that hairy thing that was still hot, still panting as was her own. They seemed mutually pleased that they had been able to arouse one another so thoroughly.

"All right," she whispered.

"Go, woman. I can't tie myself in knots forever." He was also whispering.

Joyce was leaning forward again, her eyes downcast, slightly crossed as they focused on the purple knob that waved just three inches in front of her chin. She licked her lips and Jim almost loaded his pants. Christ, the thought of his own wife ...!

She half pursed her lips as her mouth began to close the gap between her face and the cock. Then she was touching it. Jim couldn't believe his eyes. She'd never done anything like this for him, but now....

He stared as she leaned away and she wiped the back of a hand over her mouth. Once again her hands were together behind her back and the sight of her hanging breasts, fully exposed and unprotected, was almost beyond description.

"I ... I don't know," she whispered just loudly enough for Jim to hear.

"Sure you do," Scott reassured her. "Hell, I know what's wrong. I've been neglecting you too long. You're beginning to cool off."

He reached for her as she leaned toward him and his hand caught a breast. Caught only part of it, really, for it was much too swollen to fit into a single hand. His fingers closed over the nipple and he squeezed gently several times. Joyce squirmed and gasped, almost falling. But she kept her hands behind her and she remained solidly on her knees.

Scott didn't waste time on her. He seemed to be holding back any thorough working over of her body. This time around he apparently wanted her to do almost everything. The massage of the single breast was only pump priming. As soon as her breathing had returned to its peak-which was a matter of seconds, for she was truly ready-he dropped his hand and let her have her way again.

Again she was leaning forward and again the prick brushed her lips. But she turned her head and the knob rested against her cheek and as she came closer, it nestled down along the side of her throat. Scott blew out his cheeks as he looked quickly at Jim. He winked and Jim had to admire his cool. That was the value of varied experience, he supposed.

Scott was trying to speak, but it didn't come easily. "You've given me an idea, honey. In fact, the idea might be better than what I was going to have you do in the first place. We'll just see how it goes."

Joyce didn't appear to be listening to him. Her eyes were half closed and probably unseeing, Jim figured, as she bobbed slowly back and forth. Through it all the cock raked back and forth from her throat to her cheek. Again Scott was puffing like a steam engine.

"God, that's a sophisticated way of jacking me off, Joyce," Scott said. "Another minute and I'll come all over the carpet. But we wouldn't want to waste all those goodies that way, would we?"

She blinked up at him, her eyes unfocused. And then she almost closed her eyes again as the bobbing continued. At last she seemed to sense his climax. Perhaps she felt the rumble in his balls and in his shaft.

She leaned back and again the prick was right at the point of her chin. She lowered her face an inch or two and it was on a horizontal line with her mouth. She half smiled at it and Jim wondered if she were hypnotized. She certainly seemed to be totally unaware of where she was.

However, her passion was still at its peak and it might have been that sustained heat in her body which was causing her to go further with a man than she had ever gone before. She bowed her head over the prick and then she pursed her lips and kissed it right on the tip of the knob.

Scott cried out and so did Jim. Each man was fighting back his own orgasm. It was Jim who lost control first, even though his only stimulation was visual. He felt his cock balloon in his pants and then the blast shot from its muzzle. He gushed forth, boiling with a heavy load of sperm which at once soaked the crotch of his shorts and then made the crotch of his pants soggy. He looked down at the dark stain, which spread as though he'd poured a glass of water down his waistline.

He managed to keep his mouth shut and the others didn't hear or notice what was going on. Joyce was still entranced with the sight of the prick, her eyes crossed over it more than ever. Scott was gritting his teeth, half wanting, apparently, to jerk his lover's face away so he could prolong the ecstasy.

But he didn't. Instead he froze while she parted her lips and again kissed the prick. This time Jim saw the pink tip of her tongue curl into and out of the little slit in the knob. God! Again he felt the gush of sticky moisture in his crotch.

It was Scott who took over now. "I'm coming!" he shouted and he shoved her head back.

He quickly shoved Joyce's body back, although she was still on her knees. Until she was almost falling on her heels. But the edge of the desk caught her just below the shoulders and she was stopped, leaning back at a 45-degree angle.

Scott waddled forward, squatting over her and Jim wondered if he were going to give it to her in the face. He did, after a fashion, but in a way Jim never would have dreamed of doing.

He lay his cock between her breasts, his hips angled forward, the knob pointing up toward her chin. Then he pushed her swollen breasts apart and dropped the cock all the way into the fissure. He allowed the breasts to spring back and they almost buried his penis under her hot and firm flesh. Only the base was visible at one end and the knob at the other. He jerked his body in spasms for a few seconds and that was all it took.

Scott was coming, his sperm boiling like the crest of Niagara. His white stuff gushed forward, up and out of his cock as his entire body undulated over hers. The sperm spouted out of his slit and slammed like a water hose hitting a rock. It gushed up under her chin, across to one ear as he almost fell, and then down her throat, again and again, as Scott unloaded himself.

Jim watched as the sticky mass at last calmed and then slowly began to run down into the crack between his wife's breasts. There was room there because Scott's prick had already reduced itself to one-quarter of its swollen size.