Cathy was letting herself go completely, her mouth grotesquely stretched and filled by the distended and gigantic organ thrusting brutally to the back of its hungry warmth. She could sense him building toward a peak of frenzy, and now her own loins were crying out to have the huge punishing cock again ramming into them, violating and tearing her all the way to the belly. She wanted to be fucked. She was ready, her whole body burning with her building passion and need. Every nerve in her being was becoming hyper-sensitive from the overwhelming surges of fantastic sensation and eroticism whipping relentlessly through her.
Then faintly, as though from far away, she heard the footsteps and the creaking sound of the door. For a moment it didn't even register, then something snapped in her mind and she realized what in her body and soul surrender she'd completely forgotten. Bailey, at her instruction, had left the door open. She had been perfectly prepared to have Bob walk in on them at any minute. That was the game she'd started out to play and somehow it was as though she'd gone to sleep right on the field of contest. Now, she was rudely awakened by her husband's incredulous voice.
"Jesus Christ! You goddamn fucking whore!"
Cathy felt Bailey stiffen beneath her. She jerked her head suddenly upward, his cock slipping from her lips to stand up in obscene nakedness, still pointed right at the side of her head as she turned her face toward the door and Bob's flushed and gawking face.
"What the hell are you doing fucking my wife?" he gasped as though he didn't even believe what he saw.
"You fucked mine this afternoon," Bailey answered, his finger still plunged deeply up into Cathy's cunt as he used his other hand to try to turn her face forcibly back toward his erectly twitching cock.
"Cathy…?" Bob gasped, staring at her as if in demand of an explanation of an enigma he still suspected to be some kind of optical illusion.
"You asked for it, Bob," she managed in a quivering voice. "I told you I wanted to leave."
It was the moment that earlier in the night, she'd told herself she'd been waiting for. But it wasn't exactly what she'd planned. Bob was getting the surprise of his life, as she'd intended. But somehow now it didn't seem important. It was just an interruption, an irritation that had toppled her from the pinnacles of near orgasmic release, sending dull throbs of frustration ripping over every inch of her nakedly perspiring flesh. And somehow, bent over Bailey's loins, her mouth filled with saliva and seminal fluid, her buttocks waggling shamelessly from the continued thrustings of his finger into her cunt, she felt hardly in a position to exploit the holier-than-thou feelings she'd previously felt toward her husband.
Then, with a sudden mighty growl Bailey ripped his finger from her cunt. With both hands he turned her face forcibly back down toward his churning loins. He arched his buttocks up from the bed, driving his twitching cock again straight up between her lips and teeth, ramming it angrily all the way to the back of her throat as his cum-bloated balls exploded and the thick load of his sperm came surging furiously up the length of the plundering weapon of flesh to erupt like a shot from a gun, pelting into her throat in spurt after spurt of white gushing fluid.
And in spite of all her shame and embarrassment, in spite of the fact that she really hadn't had this in mind, Cathy could do nothing but gulp submissively, gurgling audibly to keep from choking as the tidal wave flood of cum went spewing into her mouth. And all the while he used both hands to hold her face to his loins, pumping the white liquid into her throat until she thought it must be running out of her ears before he finally sank back tiredly on the bed, lay motionless for a moment, still holding her in place.
Then he released her. She raised her head up, the slickened cock again dropping from her mouth as she turned to stare red-faced at her still incredulously gawking husband, tears of frustration suddenly filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. She felt Bailey's hands move around her torso, turning her back toward him on the bed. Then her eyes widened as she heard his voice:
"Come on, baby, we're not through yet. I'm not going to leave you hung-up in front of a witness."
As Cathy stared at him in astonishment, he slid his leg between her thighs, lifting upward so she suddenly found herself sitting astraddle over his loins. Looking down between their bodies, she saw his cock was still rock-hard, blood-filled red. A moment later, as he pulled down on her pelvis, she felt the blunt head of it insert itself between her burning vaginal lips, and with a low spontaneous sigh she sank her buttocks downward, taking it all deep up inside of her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bob Mason's legs felt weak beneath him. His head was spinning, his vision blurred. He felt somehow very small, not in the sense of being shamed or humiliated, but in the sense of being simply incapable of grasping what was happening right before his eyes. He felt like an amoeba looking through a telescope at the milky way.
His wife had been sucking Jack Bailey's cock. She'd sucked him and let him cum in her mouth, and she'd never so much as even kissed the tip of his own cock, her own husband's cock. And now she was sitting astraddle him, lowering her buttocks down against his loins, taking that redwood tree sized prick all the way to hilt up into her once tight little cunt; she was moaning, trembling, her whole body swaying, her face contorted with lust. Lust!
She was being fucked and she wanted it, and somehow, watching her here like this he found himself thinking that she was more beautiful than he'd ever seen her, not the prissy cheerleader he'd married but a real red-blooded hot cunted woman, a veritable whore in heat. And she was his wife. She was still his goddamned wife. And that, somehow, was what he couldn't come to terms with – that, and what in God's name he was supposed to do about it.
And so as Cathy began to bounce up and down on Jack Bailey, as Jack Bailey grunted and hunched and bucked beneath her, his hands mauling over her quivering breasts, his red eyes leering in triumph at the glistening curves of her squirming sweating flesh, Bob stood ignored, gawking from the door. He lost track of time, drifted, almost hypnotized in his dreamy state. It was almost unconsciously that he dropped his hand down to the crotch of his trousers and began to stroke across the already lengthening bulge of his cock. He listened mutely to Cathy's moans and whimpers of passion. Once, he found her looking at him. He didn't move or speak. Then Bailey wrapped his arms around her neck and pulled her toward him, hugging her breasts to his chest, pushing her legs down so she stretched out longways on top of him, his hands pawing down her back to clutch her naked ass and guide her hunching, undulating movements, his fingers slipping down into the crack between her buttocks, prompting further squeals of delight to issue from her lips.
And then, as his eyes followed Bailey's searching hands, as he walked slowly toward the foot of the bed and found himself staring straight down between her ass-cheeks where Bailey was working with his finger on her cringing asshole, Bob's conscious mind was addressed by his unconscious mind as though it were the voice of reveille come to wake him up: That's your wife and another man is fucking her and you've got a hard-on watching it. What are you going to about it?
On the bed, Cathy and Bailey had both drifted back into their own oblivion. She knew Bob was watching them, was constantly aware of his presence, but it no longer seemed to matter. He was learning his lesson better than she could ever have dreamed, but even that didn't seem important. Nothing was important but that she quench the fires of desire building now out of control through her loins. Bailey, for his part, couldn't have cared who was watching. He'd used psychological control to force himself back to erection because he didn't want the kid to see him fail his wife, but that had long since ceased to serve as motivation for his violent upward lunges between Cathy's nakedly writhing thighs. He was going to cum again, even sooner than he had the first time if he didn't start exerting some mental control, but he sensed that she was already on the verge of being ready to go with him.