His tongue slithered up into my cunt. It felt like a wet tickle, and it sent quivers of electricity through my cunt. I felt his open mouth pressed against the soft, hairy mound of my cuntlips: lips against lips in a deep, erotic kiss.
My mouth moved up and down his cock. My jaw ached from being held so widely open. His balls dangled in my face, and I could smell the raunchy, sexy odor of perspiration.
His tongue slid out and nuzzled tightly against my clitoris. The move was smooth and professional; not a stroke was wasted, not a sensation was left unattended. A finger slid into the openness of my cunt, then slipped out again before I had time to realize it had been in. The well-lubricated finger glided down the crack of my cunt until I felt it poking near the puckered tightness of my anus. I felt the wet finger prod the opening to relax, then the finger slid up inside of my body.
Sparks started going off in my cunt. A tongue against my clit and a finger in my ass!
I sucked his cock for all I was worth. I felt my orgasm building wildly and uncontrollably. With each wiggle of his finger, I felt my own pleasure heighten. My cunt shuddered against his mouth.
The finger pushed up-hard-sliding wetly into my ass until I-could feel the hard knuckle of Tony's hand pressed tightly against the cheeks of my ass.
That's when I started to come apart. My orgasm just exploded against his mouth. His tongue flattened against my clit like wet sandpaper, and he stroked it directly in wriggling, licking thrusts. Then he pushed the exploding bud down flat against the excited flesh of my cunt, and I thought I was going out of my mind!
I tried to moan, but my mouth was frustrated against the swollen thickness of his cock. My vision blurred, and my head seemed to lift off my shoulder. I heard cymbals crashing in my ears, and my thighs shook so intensely that I thought they would fall from my body.
The orgasm built and built, growing higher and higher. Each time I reached a peak of pleasure, he pushed my body further, and I would surmount another peak, and then again another, until I could go no higher without going insane from the intensity of the pleasure.
My whole body was coming: my thighs, my cunt, my mouth, my breasts! I ached all over from the pleasure. Even the softness of the bedcover made my flesh burn with shuddering desire.
And then, impossibly, it got better.
Tony began to come.
His cock began to tremble and sputter. I tightened my lips and drew my breath inward, creating a suction. I felt something moving thickly down my tongue, down the length of his cock until it burst from the hole in an exploding torrent of heat. The cock pumped into my mouth, and I felt a thick wetness spreading out across my tongue, between my lips, against my teeth, down my throat.
His cock continued to throb in my mouth, and his seed spilled like hot blobs of oiclass="underline" jumping, bubbling, dancing across my tongue. My mouth was thirsting, and greedily I drank the fibrous, elixir until I felt myself growing drunk with sensuality.
It kept on coming and coming. Thick, rich blobs of hot come spilling out like water from a faucet into the open receptacle of my mouth. I sucked hard against his flesh, drawing the sperm out like a straw until nothing more was left to draw upon, and his cock was empty.
When Tony tried to withdraw his cock from my mouth, my lips automatically tightened around the cylinder of hot flesh. When I felt it sliding out, I closed my mouth around it, sinking my teeth into the flesh.
"Easy! Easy!" Tony whispered. He touched my face and I relinquished my hold on him. He slid out and fell over on his side, his knees bent up towards the ceiling.
My mouth was full of sperm and I wiped it with my hand and swallowed heavily.
"I'm sorry," Tony said.
Sorry! I couldn't believe my ears.
"I didn't mean to come in your mouth. But when you started to come, I just couldn't hold back. You have a wonderful mouth."
"Don't be sorry," I said.
"But I promised to fuck you."
"What time is it?"
Tony looked up. "Almost twelve."
"Don't worry," I said. "It's still early."
Chapter 8
I had given the children an early dinner after Mark's call, telling me he'd be late. I decided to-wait for him to eat rather than eat with the kids. I was in a good mood from this afternoon's get-together with Tony Salerno. My cunt ached so pleasurably from the reaming out his wonderful cock gave me, that the very idea of fucking with Mark would be anti-climatical. What a cock! Tony Salerno was a bachelor who could teach most husbands a thing or two about making love to wives.
I thought back to this morning, at how horny I'd been. Snuggling under the covers and sucking Mark's cock-and then have him put me off! I laughed lewdly to myself.
Good old Mark was probably coming home horny and guilty for turning me down.
I'll let him wonder why I'm no longer in the mood, I thought, feeling deliciously wicked. I rubbed my cunt through my dress. It was still sore.
I must tell Lynda about Tony, I reminded myself.
I heard the front door open.
"Hi, Daddy! Hi!"
"Hiya Dad!-Mom! Dad's home!"
"Hi, honey!" I called out. I checked the chicken in the oven. Almost done.
I heard Mark kiss the children, spend a few moments with them, then break away. A moment later, he entered the kitchen door. He seemed tired and haggard. He still had his jacket on, but his tie hung limp down the front of his shirt. The tie looked like him: lifeless and inanimate-just hanging there.
"Like a drink before dinner?" I asked.
"No." He walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, took out a bottle of coke. He took the cap from the bottle, and began to sip the soda.
"Use a glass!"
"I just wanted a little. I was thirsty."
"Have a hard day?" I checked the even again. Soon.
"A bitch."
"I'll bet."
"You upset, Wendy?"
"I thought you were going to come home early today? Or did you forget this morning?"
Mark didn't answer right away. He took his jacket off and folded it over one of the kitchen chairs. I was about to yell at him when he shook off my annoyance with a wave of his hand. He sat down in. the chair.
"I've got to talk to you about that, Wendy," he said.
"Can't it wait? Dinner's almost ready."
"I guess it can wait, but I want to get it out of the way now."
That sounded serious. I sat down at the table with him, expecting to hear the worst.
"I have to go to Chicago," Mark said.
"So-" Part of Mark's job meant that he had to travel occasionally. It never was a problem before.
"Next week," he said.
I was silent, not quite comprehending.
"Your birthday," he said. He grit his teeth and drew back his lips as though grimacing.
"You're going to miss my birthday!" I said, suddenly understanding. "Oh, Mark!"
"I can't help it. I'm sorry, hon."
"But Mark! My birthday!"
"What can I do?"
"Put it off. Go another week!"
"You know I can't do that-"
"But you promised. My birthday, Mark!"
"All right!" he said. He was getting annoyed. I could tell he was genuinely sorry, and I think that's what was bothering him. Men often get mad when they're frustrated. They don't know how else to react.
I was silent.
"Now just cut it out! I don't like it this way, but there is nothing we can do." I stayed silent.
"That's the way it is. There's nothing we can do about it." He tried to make the finality of the thing sound reasonable.
I didn't react. I just sat there, with my eyes glaring at him.
Guilt finally overcame his frustration. "I'm sorry," he said. "I really am, Wendy."