"Yes, yesssss," Donna moaned, clasping her thrilled pussy tightly on his long rod. Lord, his burning meat felt good! It quivered and grew rock hard in her feverish slit, beginning to pump in and out with delicious friction. Donna began swinging her ass eagerly, first up and down and then from side to side, sucking in her breath as his shaft rubbed and throbbed against her tingling walls.
"Yes, fuck me! Mmmmmmmmmm, I love your darling prick, Freddie! Love your hot meat, honey! Aaaaaaaaah, deeper, faster, harder – oooooooh! Love to fuck, unnnnnnnnnngh!"
With a shock, Donna realized she'd never used words like that before either. Her sex with her husband was punctuated with soft moans and squeals of delight, with tender words like "Love me harder" and "Deeper, darling, deeper". But the vulgar words were firing her excitement deliriously, and she began raving and clawing at the sofa seat savagely.
"Ooooo, fuck it faster, darling boy! Every inch yes! Every unnnnnf!Hot inch of your big prick, Freddie! Ram me, fuck me, hurt me, give it all to me aaaaaaaaaaaah!"
The sobbing, thrashing brunette was already in the spasms of her first climax. The feel of his balls slapping harshly against her thighs while his blazing knob battered deep in her cunt triggered a violent orgasm. She whipped her drenched pussy in a fury on his hot meat, wriggling and squirming and pumping her slippery crack with eager cries.
"G-gonna come, missus Moore!"
Freddie gasped. Her luscious cunt was sucking his load out of him with lustful power, and the boy squeezed her silken ass tightly in his fingers and gritted his teeth. Goddamn, what a roller-coaster ride! Her juicy, boiling slit thrashed on his exploding rod in a fever of excitement and Freddie barely had to move because the crying brunette was doing all the pumping now.
"My-my rocks coming off! Ooooooooh shit what cunt! Oh Christ missus – aaaaaagh! – Missus Moore, what pussy!"
And his obscene groans triggered a second fiery orgasm in her loins, racing to every tingling nerve in her sweating flesh as his come gushed into her frenzied cunt. Even after the last few boiling drops trickled into her throbbing slit, Donna hugged his meat fiercely.
Jeesuz, she won't let me out! Freddie thought in a panic. A horrible vision flashed in his mind, of his prick locked savagely in her pussy while he stood there helplessly as her husband walked in the door. He'd seen dogs locked like that and they wrestled and bounced and howled trying to wrench free.
Terrified, Freddie jerked his soft meat out and stepped back with a shaking sigh of relief. His simple mind didn't know that vaginismus, as cunt locking was medically termed, occurred only rarely in humans, or that in eighteenth-century France when adulterers were caught in the unfortunate spasm, they were wheeled on a cart naked through the streets of Paris and jeered at and pelted by rotten fruit.
"That was wild, Missus Moore," he panted, staring at her creamy ass. It still shuddered with bliss and her madly sucking pussy dripped obscenely. "I'll be ready again in a couple minutes," he added proudly.
Slowly, Donna stood up. Her mind whirled with a strange mixture of fierce excitement and sudden fear. The impact of what she'd done in her frantic excitement dawned on her, making her ripe curves tremble.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head quickly. "Listen, Freddie, you'd better go now – fast. I… I've never done this before. I don't know what came over me. You'd better dress and leave. Hurry."
Her fear was contagious. Freddie rushed back to the kitchen and slipped his pants on. She followed him, her huge tits panting with her lingering orgasm and sudden fright.
"Listen," she said intensely when he was dressed and ready to leave. She grabbed him by the shoulders savagely, her eyes boring into his. "Listen, Freddie. Not a word of this to anyone, understand? You could ruin my life in this town if it came out. Try to understand! Don't boast to your friends or girls, don't put it in a diary, don't ever come by here again." She shook him so violently he gaped at her. "Try to understand, Freddie! I have a family, a boy about your age! If this came out…"
Freddie nodded, gulping. The switch from raw hot lust to paranoid caution unnerved him. Hell, he was only going to let his best buddies in on it, no one else. They could be trusted.
"Sure, sure, I understand, Missus Moore, honest. Not a word. It's our secret." He paused, licking his lips, his prick beginning to rise hotly again as he watched her big silken tits heave. "Can I call you in a couple days?"
She was about to scream no when she realized that would guarantee disaster. Keep him on the string if necessary, but keep his mouth shut at all costs.
"Yes, do that, honey, call me first. Then we'll see about another meeting. Run along now, Freddie."
At the door he paused. "Don't worry about a thing, Missus Moore. I swear, not a word to anyone." Except for Al and Freddie, and just maybe Joe. They were men of the world like himself.
"Thank you," Donna whispered, tears in her eyes. When the door shut behind him she found her cigarettes and lit one with shaking fingers. Madness! My God, what came over her? Risking everything for a wild urge and a few minutes of obscene excitement, for a sordid quickie with a mere boy! That Goddamned package… if only she hadn't opened it!
She paced the floor, trying to calm herself down. All right, so she'd slipped once in twenty years of marriage. It wasn't exactly a crisis. Just this once and never again. He wouldn't tell, he was a sweet boy. And he had such an adorable prick… so hot and thick and eager…
Donna went upstairs and drew a hot bath. First scrub off the makeup and soap her naked body down thoroughly. Washing away the guilt, she thought dryly. She felt much better after a few minutes in the steaming water, much calmer. The whole crazy episode happened so fast, so spontaneously she felt like a puppet being helplessly jerked into action. Like a frantic hot dream. Open the box, try some of the clothes on, get wildly aroused, suck and fuck an passing boy, beg him for secrecy, go crazy with fear and guilt. That fast.
Donna rested one long, silken leg on the rim of the bathtub and caressed soap onto it, her fingers trailing teasing circles near her pulsing cunt lips. Just this once, so now she had a vivid memory to cling to, a delicious hot fuck to remember when John's familiar cock plunged into her tonight. The thought sent wild shivers up her spine. She mustn't get too excited tonight or he'd suspect. But who would suspect quiet, soft spoken Donna, the eternally faithful housewife and loyal mother?
Her pussy still throbbed with tingles of lust. Maybe it hadn't been the package, maybe it was the sight of her naked son yesterday in the hallway. He was coming back from the shower when his draped towel slipped, and for a few madly arousing moments she'd seen his immense dangling cock and huge balls, framed by a thick mass of blonde curly hair. At that moment she could have dropped to her knees and sucked her handsome son off with wild whimpers of lust. Did other mothers ever have obscene ideas like that?
But most other mothers didn't have husky sons hung like Dan. Or luscious daughters like Jenny, with her sweet ripe mouth and golden budding tits and silken, tawny flesh..
No, Donna thought, it was the Goddamned package, the big box left on her doorstep by the relief mailman. Their regular was on vacation and the current mailman was only a boy, unfamiliar with the neighborhood. So he'd left the large package on her doorstep, even though it wasn't her address. The numbers were the same, 427O, but the street was different, and the name. She lived on Willow Drive and the box was addressed to 427O Viewpoint Drive, half a mile away. The name was Mrs. Georgia Langley.
Just a mistake by a clumsy new mailman. An innocent mistake triggering a whole new destiny, a bizarre, violent chain of adventures that would alter their sex lives forever…