Chapter 1
THE FIRST RAYS OF THE MORNING SUN touched the tops of the towering pines and cedars. Blue jays, awakening, began to flit through the branches. Squirrels emerged from their cozy nests to begin their daily search for food.
In a cottage nestled among the trees, a man and a woman lay side by side, sleeping. His lean face was shadowed by whiskers which had grown out during the night, and his brown hair was bushed up. He lay on his cheek, which was deeply embedded in the pillow. His wife lay on her back, her brown hair forming a fan atop the snowy pillow case. Her face was pretty, its features regular and quite strong in a feminine way. During sleep, she had unconsciously pushed the covers down around her middle, and her breasts stood out with only the gossamer thinness of her pink nightgown to protect them from the cool air.
The woman's nipples, responding to the coolness, were rigidly erect against the flimsy, transparent cloth. They were ruddy and large.
Though he hadn't given any outward sign of it as yet, the man was being persistently tugged toward wakefulness by the need to urinate. His cock was piss-hard.
The dream which had been playing across the stage of his unconscious mind slowly faded. He stirred. An eye popped open. His first awareness was of the need to piss, then of the rigidity of his cock. Now, with both eyes open, his vision focused on the nipples of his wife. They jutted toward the ceiling in a way that caused a wave of warmth to surge into his lower body. His erection locked in, harder than ever, and he became aware of a lustful itch.
He reached out, cupped a hand over one of his wife's lightly-clad tits, and shook it gently. Its first nipple nuzzled his palm.
She said, "Uuuuuuuh..." and stirred.
He took hold of her shoulder strap and pulled it down, exposing her rounded, white, rose-tipped breast, which quivered from the brushing of the cloth across it. The aureole of the nipple was tensely drawn up in little bumps and ridges. The nub was thick and tall as the end joint of a little finger.
Gazing at the tit caused Fred Robinson's mouth to water, and he leaned over it. He settled his O-shaped lips down around the erect nipple and sucked it as he lashed it with his wet, warm tongue.
Clarisa writhed against the mattress.
Fred pulled down her opposite shoulder strap and filled his hand with the breast which was newly uncovered. He kneaded it passionately as he sucked and licked at the other one. His rod throbbed mightily now. He plainly had gone too far to turn back. He would have to screw Clarisa this morning. She came to total wakefulness while he was making love to her breasts. An immediate response stirred within her.
"Darling..." she murmured and slid her hand around the back of his neck. Her fingertips fluffed his short hairs while he continued to suck at her tingling, congested nipple.
Her vagina became warm and moist. She could feel the lips tensing, growing congested. They itched. She wriggled her shoulders against the bed, causing her breast to roll against his mouth. He clamped onto the nipple harder and sucked it farther back on his tongue.
"Darling, don't hurt...." she murmured.
His hand left her breast and slid underneath the covers. He found the lacy edge of her nightgown, which had worked its way up to her belly. He slid his hand farther, into her fluff and through it to the center of her pussy. His fingers deftly parted the soft lips, and his middle finger sank deeply into her cunt, finding it already slick.
"You little devil," he panted, raising his mouth from her breast. "You want a laying as badly as I want to give it to you."
"Ooh, yes, Fred!"
He scrambled on top of her, letting his prick out of his pajamas on the way, and he immediately pressed the tip of his rod against the center of her moist slit. His cock slowly slid into the warm, snug rim, its lips pushing back his foreskin.
"Hey ... that's good!" he breathed, as his cock sank deeply into her cunt.
"Mmmmmmm, I love it."
"What do you love?" he murmured at her ear. "Your pecker," she whispered. "Your wonderful, big, thick pecker."
"Shall I move it?"
"Yes, move it, ram it! Hurry! I'm on fire."
He proceeded to screw her vigorously and quickly, for that was the way he felt like taking her this morning. The bed rocked. Her ass bounced in the mattress. His prick fairly flew as it pistoned up and down in the slick sleeve of her pussy. She clamped her smooth legs high around his back and pounded her cunt up to him in the exact rhythm of his loins. He seemed to drive deeper and deeper every time. He exulted in the sense of power and perfection. After six years, he believed he and Clarissa moved better than they had during the first year of their marriage. He wanted no other woman. He never had during the six years, and that was the way it was going to be for the next six ... and sixty, if they lived that long.
He moved faster and faster, and, when he felt her coming, he ejaculated with a near-blinding burst of bliss. His warm cream gushed into her, flooding the pit of her satiny, grasping cunt.
"Uuuuuuuh..." he sighed in gratification.
"Ooooooh," she said. "Oooh, lover..." She worked her fingers in his tousled hair. Slowly her legs fell away from his back.
He kissed her with his tongue, deeply, and their lips suctioned together for a long time.
She felt utterly complete. As she had done many times before, she congratulated herself on having chosen such a wonderful man to marry.
He said, with a little laugh, as he slid off her, "I have to take a piss. That's what woke me up."
"Well, I like that!" she said in mock dudgeon. "And here I thought you woke up to ... do what we did."
She was reticent about saying any obscenities when she wasn't in the grip of passion, but she'd once told him she liked having him say those words to her when they were making love, and she enjoyed saying them back.
"As soon as I opened my eyes," he explained, standing, "I couldn't resist what I saw. Your pretty tits were uncovered." He smiled down at them as he casually lifted his pecker back into his pajamas.
"I ought to be more careful about that," she said, pulling the covers up to her chin.
"Okay ... now you can cover up."
She smiled at him as he turned to plod to the bathroom.
The urine flew from him in a fast, heavy stream that made a lot of noise as it hit the water in the toilet. In the cozy bed, Clarisa smiled to herself.
After he had returned, she got up and proceeded to the bathroom to attend to her necessary functions. When she got back, Fred was lying on his side, facing the edge of the bed, already asleep again.
He didn't have to get up early, because his business was the local tavern in Pine Center. It opened at ten o'clock, but he usually didn't show up until noon. He worked through the afternoons, came home for dinner in the early evenings, then went back and helped his bartender during the busy hours. He usually knocked off at about midnight or a little later and let Cliff close up at two.
When Fred and Clarisa were having breakfast, she casually mentioned, "Guess who I heard from yesterday."
"Your mother, I don't hope?" He slathered some marmalade on toast.
"No, you beast-not mother. It was Pam." He looked up.
"You remember," she said. "Pam Hartley. Or Murphy, more recently. But she's divorced now."
"Yeah, I remember her. What did she want."
"To tell me she's coming up for a visit."
"You're kidding."
"No. She arrives tomorrow."
"Without even getting an answer back from you."
"She phoned me. Naturally I told her to come. You'd like to see her again, wouldn't you."
"Sure." He looked down.
"She inquired about you, incidentally. You know ... I think she's always been a little hot for you. I'm going to have to watch her while she's here."
"Don't be silly," he said and got up, pushing his chair back.
"Through already? You didn't finish your toast."
"I don't feel like any more."
He walked into the rustic-styled living room which was paneled in knotty pine. Pam, coming here. The thought at once excited him and made him apprehensive.
Clarisa's words kept echoing in his brain-I think she's always been a little hot for you. If Clarisa only knew!
Oh, hell, he thought. I'm an old married man now.
And Pam's been through a marriage and a divorce. Everything will be different. A divorce...
He wondered why Pam had divorced her husband. He wondered what she thought of men now. Most of all, he wondered why she was seeking out Clarisa and himself after all these years.
Usually he puttered around the house a little before he walked down to the tavern, but not today. He bid Clarisa good-bye, slipped into his jacket and left the cottage.
The mountain air was clear and invigorating. The temperature stood in the high sixty's. Fred followed the path which threaded its way down the gentle slope, between the tall trees. He always enjoyed the clean, tangy smell of the woods in the morning.
Now another smell reached him from the cafe on the highway below: hamburgers frying. Then there was a puff of exhaust from a car which suddenly decelerated at the turn, and its acrid scent completed the destruction of the woodsy spell.
Fred's mind wandered back to Pam and to a certain time before he and Clarisa were married. They weren't even engaged yet, but he was dating her regularly. She introduced him casually to her college chum.
It was funny. Those girls had gone through school together, had shared the same dorm, had double-dated many times, and yet Clarisa didn't really know Pam. Alone with a man, Pam was a witch on wheels. And apparently it didn't matter in the least who the man was or whether he was already spoken for...
"Hey ... you know what that does to me?" he asked. "Mmmmm, I can feel it."
"We shouldn't."
She laughed deep in her throat, and then her warm soft lips were pressing his and opening his mouth to let her tongue leap inside. Her hand around his prick was cool, but it was setting him on fire. The prick was stiff as a pole and hard as steel as she slid the velvety foreskin up and down on it.
She had come over to his apartment-just like that. She's said she happened to be in the neighborhood and decided to drop in. She hoped he didn't mind, eyes batting.
Her eyes were very dark. Her face was pert. Her figure was richly-curved-slim where it ought to be, abundant above and below.
Now she was beside him on the couch, and they were completely alone. She had her hand in the fly of his trousers, and they were kissing with all their heart and soul.
His hand moved to one of her sweatered mounds, and he found it unbelievably firm for its size, yet thrillingly resilient. He squeezed that lush titty covered by sweater and bra, and its nipple rose beneath the fabrics to nudge his cupping palm.
Blindly she hauled his prick out of the confinement of his shorts and trousers. She stopped kissing him and looked down at it.
"You're big," she said huskily. "I love big cocks. May I suck it?"
Fred was shocked. He'd had a girl suck his prick only once, and that was during a time of utter abandon, when they were rolling about, nude, in bed. She'd taken it into her mouth for a moment, given it a quick lick and a suck, then let it bob away, and he had almost come all over both of them before he managed to get his spasming loins under control.
Now here was a luscious creature whom he hardly knew-a friend of his steady girl-asking him if she could mouth his cock before he had even undressed her. He had only been alone with her for ten minutes!
Pam didn't wait for his answer. She merely slipped to her knees on the floor in front of him and pushed his thighs apart. She crawled forward between them and bowed her head.
When he felt her soft, wet lips slide down over the head of his pecker, a blast of intense pleasure exploded in his brain. He tilted his head back and jammed his eyes tightly closed. His senses reeled, and he was vividly aware of only one impression-the sucking of her hungry mouth which was fastened on the knob of his cock.
His hands dug blindly into her short, black hair and tightened around her bobbing head. Her hands had lifted out his testicles and were playing with them as her lips sucked and slid up and down on the lollipop-head of his prick.
God, it was wonderful!
In sudden panic he realized that he was going to come in her mouth. He tried to cry out, to tell her to let go of his cock, but he was able to emit only a ragged growl. He couldn't move away from her, and he couldn't make his hands work so as to get her head off him. He tightened more, then giddily let go, and his thick, warm cream flooded her mouth and throat. She didn't pull away from him. She kept moving, gulping rapidly and swallowing all his come. Only after she had sucked every drop from his blissfully throbbing pecker did she slide her lips away and raise her head. She smiled up at him, her face strangely flushed. "God ... oh, God..." he said.
She laughed softly and climbed back up onto the sofa to cuddle close to him. His slumping dick remained exposed.
He was breathing hard and he felt weak. "I ... I don't know what to say," he said.
"Don't say anything." She was nuzzling at his neck and cheek.
"But ... God..."
"I loved it," she told him. "I wanted to swallow your stuff. I did, really."
Her soft, little hand cupped his shrunken peter, and she gently manipulated the foreskin, tickling the ridge of his penis at the same time. She rubbed its tip. Miraculously, it started fattening and stretching out once more, though he had ejaculated just moments ago.
His hands moved to her, and he began blindly to take off her clothes. She cooperated, twisting On the couch and lifting her rump from the cushion as his hands toured her. They continued to kiss, off and on, and she made little sounds of passion. Her hand kept returning to his prick, stroking it and making it ever stronger.
After Fred pulled away her white bra, her plump tits projected temptingly forward, round and white with small, reddish nipples, rigidly erect. He filled his hands with them, and they were satiny firm, yet yielding to the pressure of his fingers. He lowered his head, and with a growl sucked in a nipple. He lashed and bent it this way and that with his tongue.
She panted hard, and her hand rubbed his cock more rapidly. It was well up now and nearly stiff enough to give her a satisfactory lay. But she continued to play with it, to make it harder yet, and his hands slid down to her waist where he caught hold of the elastic top of her slip and pulled it away.
Her briefs were made of nylon and were very thin. The dark wedge of her pubic patch showed through the snowy, silken cloth. The pants clung to her belly, and her navel showed through, just below the elastic. Her stockings were tan and gartered at mid-thigh by straps which extended up underneath her pants. There they joined a narrow belt which passed around her tummy, and this was visible through her pants. The creamy flesh between the tops of her stockings and her panty elastics was smooth and firm, yet fully rounded. She had truly luscious thighs.
Fred rubbed them and got into her nylon-clad crotch where she was very soft and warm ... and moist, he discovered, when she parted her legs, permitting him access to the central portion of her cunt. The thin panties clung to her plush pussy-lips, and he stroked the crease between those lovely folds of flesh.
"Ooh, baby, come on and get in me!" she panted. "Your prick's stiff enough now."
Her words thrilled him, and, if his prick hadn't been quite stiff before, it quickly became so. With a grunt, he wheeled off the couch and onto his knees beside it. He helped her around, so that she could stretch out full-length, and he pulled the pants from her, baring the black-fluffy mound of her pussy and the moist lips between her legs.
She parted her legs immediately, placing one on top of the couch and letting the other fall to the floor, opening her cunt like a ripe peach. Her inner slit flared excitedly and was awash with moisture. Her clitty was erect.
Gazing at this luscious sight and feeling his entire body throb with passion, Fred pushed down his slacks and shorts. He left them rumpled at his knees as he clambered onto the couch, between her spread legs.
"Give it to me hard," she said. "Don't hold back." And her hand went to his prick, surrounding it and drawing it to her spasming little hole.
His cock slid into her smoothly and deeply, and the fit was snug. She had marvelously active cunt muscles, and they went to work on him right away, milking at his prick. He withdrew and slid in, withdrew and slid in, each time sinking deeper, feeling her warm, moist, smoothness all around him.
She was moving her hips, rising and falling, meeting his every thrust with one of her own. They pumped perfectly together. He moaned with delight, pumping her harder.
"Yes ... yessss..." she hissed and raked his shirted back with her fingernails. Her legs hooked themselves around the backs of his thighs.
This deep, hard movement was one of the most enjoyable of Fred's life. He lay against her billowing tits and powered his prick in and out of her pussy as it rose and fell, clutching at him all the time. His balls bounced against her crotch.
"Ooooh, Fred ... oh, daar-ling!"
His eyes rolled back and he growled as he ground and drove his hard tool in and out of her, bearing down to produce a climax.
Because he had so recently emptied his balls, there was no great pressure within him yet, and his body seemed capable of working for an hour before it went into orgasm. But he wanted to finish now. He was anxious to know the supreme thrill of perfecting his possession of this girl, which could only be achieved when he spasmed and ejaculated his hot cream into her.
She was going, "Uuh ... uh ... uh..." in whining breaths as she slammed her cunt hard to him, sinking him deeply within her every time.
Suddenly he felt her cunt muscles grab him harder than ever. This was followed by a general spasming in her cunt, which spread throughout her entire body. She cried and shuddered beneath him.
He kept spearing her mightily and deeply-slamming, banging-hard, hard, haaard...
Then he, too, was caught up in the grip of convulsive completion, and his prick jerked deep in the well of her still-spasming pussy. He shot out the few drops of cream he had manufactured in the last few minutes, and the smallness of the quantity seemed to make his pleasure in the ejaculation all the more intense. He keened his ecstatic delight and she moaned, finally slackening off her own orgasm.
"Oooh ... Fred ... Fred ... how wonderful!" she cried and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, holding him against her and rocking slowly from side to side on the sofa.
This experience shook Fred, but he wouldn't let it jar him out of the groove in which he was traveling. Clarisa was a sweet girl-a virgin, so she had said-and they had many common interests. He had just about made up his mind to ask her to marry him. Would he let some hot-pantied little slut come along now and blind him to what was really important in life? No. He was a practical, level-headed man.
He considered trying to clue Clarisa as to the true nature of her girl friend but rejected that. It would surely raise more questions than it answered, and he would finally have to confess that he'd balled Pam. This might upset his romance with Clarisa completely and was bound to destroy the friendship between the two girls. But he would make certain never to put himself in this position again. He would avoid Pam Hartley like the Asian flu.
This proved difficult. Pam called him; he finally had to hang up on her. When she came to see him, he refused to let her into his apartment. The girl apparently had no pride, for she continued to call him on the telephone. It was only when he threatened to tell Clarisa (to whom he was now engaged) that Pam desisted.
Engagement to Clarisa did not include sex. She wanted to remain pure for her wedding day, and Fred didn't see this as a bad idea. That way he would know for certain, when she was his wife, that no other man had ever gotten into her.
But he was under great physical pressure, and there was the tempting thought that Pam was always available to him. He would only have to call and apologize for treating her as he had before. Perhaps he wouldn't even have to apologize in order to bed her.
No. Pam must be forgotten. He and Clarisa trusted one another; she was faithful to him, and he owed her the same obligation. No prude, Fred still regarded himself as a moral person. And he loved Clarisa.
So he waited for wet dreams to relieve the pressure which kept building in his balls, and, when he couldn't wait, he jacked himself off, visualizing Pam, not Clarisa, as he did it. It just didn't seem right to evoke Clarisa's image in that connection.
Finally they were married. And this, of course, changed everything.