Despite her most respectable convictions, Sarah felt her vagina begin to moisten and tremble. Her nostrils flared and a slight, thin line of perspiration broke out on her upper lip.
And suddenly she was ashamed, unconsciously ashamed. While it was true that she had been living a deliciously wanton life for the last eight months, she certainly was no pervert. No lesbianism or any other horrid stuff for her, like black leather or anything like that. Sexually she indulged only in what one might expect from any good Republican and member of the North Shore Women's League.
And now – to flare hotly over a dog! Shame flooded from deep in her very being.
But maybe it was just that she and Arnold hadn't made love in over three days, during their cross country train trip. She was hot as a firecracker consequently, and the littlest thing could turn her on. That was it, she felt sure.
She would have to rectify the situation soon, she decided, or she would go out of her mind.
And there was, after all, no time like the present.
CHAPTER FOUR
After the briefest sample of feminine chatter, Sarah made the best excuse she could and made her way back to the Talbott's bedroom, where she found her husband dozing in bed with a handful of pornographic pictures sitting under the lamp by the bedside. Two of them were streaked with milky cum, now hard and flakey, as was the coverlet.
Shaking her head, she took all the pins out of her coal-black hair, now streaked with gray, and let it tumble in a thickened mass down her back to her fulsomely formed buttocks. Although she had had her hair trimmed occasionally, Sarah Talbott had never had it really cut in fifty years. Her father, an ardent Quaker, had considered girls who cut their hair as workers for the devil, and somehow she had just never kept up with the latest fashions. So that now her gorgeous thick dark mane tumbled out all over down her shoulders and back, nestling softly just above the crevice of her buttocks.
Arnold Talbott turned on the bed and opened one eye. "What is it, honey? You and our little girl finish your chat so early?"
Sarah said nothing. She just kept on undressing. She opened her blouse, revealing the voluminous globes of her breasts where they heaved in their silken sheaths. Through the thin material of her brassiere she could see the small dark ovals of her aureoles, and atop them the tiny quivering peaks of her nipples, designed to draw men's lips. She was in such a state of delayed excitement that her nipples had already come up hard and high. Her vagina was awash with a lewdly rising tingle.
Gulping and making a little moan, she ran her hands into her bra and clutched each enormous breast, tweaking her nipples teasingly like the dials of a radio. She had never quite grown out of the delirious desire to have her huge breasts fondled, and they were always inordinately sensitive to the slightest touch. Just the most ordinary sucking by a young man's mouth could drive her wild. She loved it especially when young boys sucked on them as if they were milking her, sucking in as much of the hyper-sensitive surrounding flesh as they could. This really set her cunt to churning. She loved to call them baby when they did that, as if they were really newborn babies at her titties, sucking for life itself, and she used other equally illicit endearments as well. It was really grand with young men – like Steve. She wondered now how she had gone so long without giving in. She could remember that extremely attractive fourteen year old newspaper delivery boy, for example, and the way his hot young eyes had devoured her when she had come to the door to pay for the paper… there was going to be a surprise in store for him when she got back to Kenilworth…
"You have such big tits you could probably suck on them yourself," Arnold whispered from the bed.
She giggled guiltily, made a little smile and reached back to unfasten her bra. It came away, revealing her enormous chest in all its swaying, pendulous glory. She shook her tits and made a hot, sensuous little laugh. "I'll bet you'd like to see that, wouldn't you, honeypie?"
"I might," he admitted, grinning, and he threw back the covers, revealing a gigantic hard-on standing up in his hand from its hairy base like a redwood tree about to be felled. "I've got my balls in an uproar for the last twenty-four years every time I see your beautiful big tits, hon. I'd get a kick like anything out of it if you sucked on them yourself, baby."
She giggled again and fluttered her lashes demurely, combing out her long black hair. "You're obscene," she said. "A nice woman shouldn't do a thing like that."
"You've finger-fucked yourself, haven't you?"
"You know I have, Arnold."
"Same difference, sucking on your own tits."
"But isn't there anything else you'd rather I sucked on?" she grinned mischievously.
He laughed and gripped his cock snugly. "You know there is! Get over here!"
Sarah smiled and began a little dance as she finished undressing. Her huge breasts swayed and bobbed. She knew they were sufficient to give Arnold – or any man a hard-on with precious little else required, they were so large and well-formed. Her long black hair assisted the opulence and fullness of her well-preserved contours. Although she was massively built upstairs, she had an unnaturally tiny waist which flared outward into a full hourglass pair of hips just made for bedroom games. Her long shapely legs were nicely formed and still firm without an ounce of fat, although here and there, there was a slight, provocative stretch wrinkle. She had after all been a mother twice. Still, the sheer voluptuousness of her proportions could only be termed Goddess-like, and she knew it. Young men doted on her motherly proportions every bit as much as she adored their hard young muscles.
Her skirt fell in a pool around her ankles as she hummed softly and moved her sexy body as arousingly as she knew how in her primitive dance of love. After she slipped off her long black stockings she put her fingers into the elastic of her sheer black nylon panties and drew them tantalizingly down.
Arnold began reflexively stroking himself, his mouth hanging open. Though he had fucked a great many other women in his time, Sarah was still his all-time greatest turn-on. For one thing, she had the most magnificent body he had ever seen on a woman. Her tits dominated everything; no man could resist them. For another thing, she had a sensuously educated mouth for cock sucking and was positively the best in the world. For these and other reasons he was devoted to his gorgeous sexy wife more than she knew or would ever find out, and the passage of years had not dimmed his lust for her one iota.
And now her panties were down. He invariably gulped at first sight of the blackly curling pussy hair that covered the sparsely growing triangular "v" between her legs. He could see the thinly lipped little vaginal slit lying in wait in between, moistening slightly and shining with liquid substance.
"Come on," he croaked huskily. "Get over here!"
Sarah smiled and walked over to him. She leaned out over the bed and let her enormous breasts fall over into his hungry mouth. He sucked hungrily on one while squeezing the other. She reached down and exchanged her grip for his on the hardened length of flesh riding up between his legs, and she began gently masturbating it up and down.
"Arnold?"
"Mmmmm?"
"You don't mind if I pretend you're Stevie, do you? If I pretend you're my son-in-law while I suck your cock and you're fucking me? Do you, lover?"
He smiled and kept sucking. This was a little game they played. She knew well and good that he didn't mind. They had visited the children for this specific purpose, because she had wanted to get a 'thing' together with young Steve. And after the way he had screwed their daughter-in-law half-silly in Alaska while their son Ronald was away at work, he owed it to her. He didn't mind at all.