And unlike Bill, he would encourage foreplay, all those delicious things she'd only read about. In real life Lynn felt a little embarrassed and even put off when she read about the kinky things other people did. But at night in the dream world of her bed, it made her incredibly horny to imagine doing those things.
To have a man lick her pussy.
To suck and taste his cock.
She'd never done any of that, nor had Bill ever encouraged it. She wanted so badly to know what oral sex was like Bill had never even touched her pussy. Now she pretended that the Italian boy was doing it, her hand imitating his. She slid her hand between her silky thighs, over the soft little muff of her cunt. She touched the little naked bump of her clit.
"Ummmm," she murmured softly.
She must remember to keep quiet. Bill was sleeping not two feet away. Silently she began to rub her sensitive little joy-button, pretending that the handsome young boy was frigging her, playing with her. It felt incredibly good. Hot pleasure radiated through her whole body, and her pussy melted into wet searing need If only Bill knew how grateful she'd be, how hot she'd get, if he just rubbed her clit… Yet he'd never touched her there. Lynn used the tip of her finger to tease and massage the tiny hot organ, and every time she touched it, a spurt of juice spat from her cunt, wetting her hand.
She eased her finger farther back into her steamy gash, into the hot hair-fringed valley that hid her cunt-mouth. She found the drooling hole, circled it delicately, teasingly, with the tip of her finger.
She had to muffle her ecstatic little cries. It felt so good…
She couldn't wait any longer. She had to get to the high point of her fantasy, pretend the handsome dark boy was fucking her. She imagined the thickness of his hard young cock-two fingers? No, three. She opened her legs wide, slowly eased her stiff fingers into her cunt-hole Scalding scream boiled around her fingers, and she flit the red-hot silky lining of her cunt. She pretended the boy's cock was slowly advancing into her snatch, and she wanted to scream with pleasure, buck her hips. But, no, that would wake Bill. Damn Bill…
She pumped her fingers stiffly in her flooded little twat, pretending that the boy jerked hungrily under her-yes, under her, not on top like Bill. Dizzy pleasure melted her body, her senses. She forgot everything but the delicious fantasy-fuck, and she began to move her crotch in time to her own strokes, began to move…
"Ahhhhhh!" she wailed as the intense climax hit her.
Her lush body went into helpless spasms, and she jerked her fingers furiously in the scalding sucking tunnel of her cunt Bill sat up abruptly.
"Lynn? Lynn, what's the matter?"
She could have screamed. She was still in mid-climax, enjoying it intensely, wanting to prolong it. Instead she jerked her fingers out of her nipping little twat and quickly wiped them on the sheet.
"Ummm?" she said dazedly, pretending confusion.
"What's wrong, honey?" said Bill. "You were tossing, moaning…"
You better believe it, Lynn thought wistfully.
"Dreaming," she said sleepily. "Nightmare. Okay now."
She rolled over with her back to him and pretended to sleep.
Seven o'clock came all too early. Lynn had to get up and dress for another day of job-seeking, and Bill, in his new role as house-husband, had to make breakfast and get their daughter Tina off to school.
He lounged in bed for a moment, watching his wife dress. Damn, she was beautiful-those great full melon-tits, her tight little butt, good long legs. He was lucky, and he knew it. So why couldn't he get hot for her any more? What had happened to their marriage?
Lynn was wondering the same thing as she brushed her hair and watched Bill climb out of bed and take off his pajamas. He had a great body, he was well-hung, he was a nice man… Why couldn't she get excited about him? Why was she looking forward, with the excitement of a schoolgirl, to prowling the streets and gawking at strange men?
They all met in the kitchen, Bill in jeans and T-shirt, Lynn all dressed up in a smart pantsuit, and Tina in her baby-doll nightie.
"Is that what you're wearing to school?" Bill teased.
"Oh, Dad," she said sleepily, "I'll get dressed after I eat."
She wandered to the table, still a little punchy from sleep, and Bill followed her with his eyes. It had suddenly dawned on him that his daughter had turned into a sexy young woman.
Tina was petite, slim, and her brown hair was lighter than her mother's. She had wide green eyes, turned-up nose, an elfin look; Bill was used to all this, but this morning he found himself suddenly aware of her delicious round butt and the saucy little points of her tits. Those boobs bounced slightly as she walked, and through the thin material of her nightie he could see the pink nipples.
He felt his cock harden.
Blushing, he turned back to the stove and tended to the eggs. Christ, he must be hard up if he started getting turned on by his own teenage daughter. Yet he couldn't deny that Tina was a delicious little piece "I've got to run," said Lynn. "See you both at dinner."
"Bye, Mom,"-said Tina, accepting a kiss on the cheek.
As Lynn hurried out of the room, Tina smiled happily. She was alone with Dad at last. She loved both her parents, but she was beginning to love Dad in a strange and exciting new way…
CHAPTER TWO
It was almost three in the afternoon, and Lynn was dead on her feet. Another fruitless day of job-hunting had brought her near despair. Somewhere in this crummy city there had to be work, even washing dishes, if she could only find it.
She was just leaving the fifth employment agency she'd seen that day, when one of the girls called out to her, "Oh, Mrs. West, wait! This just came in.
Lynn hurried back and got the address of the opening. It was a place called the Pussy Cat Club, and she was to see the manager, Ed Green. Her duties weren't specified, but she didn't care, as long as it meant money. She'd probably be a cocktail waitress, not the greatest job in the world, but better than nothing.
The Pussy Cat Club was located in a seedy part of town, in an old building recently remodeled. Lynn's heart sank when she read the sign over the door: "Pussy Cat Club-Massage and Amusements." She didn't know how to massage, and she didn't want to be part of the amusements.
She went in anyhow. She and Bill and Tina had very little money left, and it was vital for her to find work, whether she liked the work or not. She would learn to massage and to do whatever else the job required. She would do it for Bill and Tina.
There was a small waiting room with two doors. One read: "Ed Green, Manager." Lynn knocked at that door.
"Come in," called a rough masculine voice.
Lynn entered the smoky office and saw a balding middle-aged man sitting at a desk. He was wearing a fancy Italian suit and smoking a cigar that made her eyes water.
"Yeah," he said, "what can I do for you?"
"I-I understand you have a job opening," Lynn said.
He raised an eyebrow. "I just sent that notice out. Didn't expect such fast results."
"I'm desperate for work," Lynn confessed. "I don't know how to massage, but I learn fast. I can learn anything.
"Well, I dunno," said Ed Green. He eyed her, looking her slowly up and down.
Lynn's heart sank. What if he found her too old? She was thirty-three, after all, even if she didn't look it. She straightened up, smiled, tried to be as attractive as possible.
"It ain't your looks," said Green, as if reading her mind. "You're a knockout. But you seem pretty tame for this kind of work. You sure you can handle it?"
"Of course," Lynn said confidently. In fact she had no idea what he meant. She didn't see how massage could be that difficult.
"Okay, we'll give you a try," said Green. "The pay is three hundred a week, but I'd want you to work evenings. Every night from eight to one, with Monday and Tuesday off"