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"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! It hurts! Aaaaahhh! Ooooohhhhhhhhhhh! I luv it! Oooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she screeched.

The compactly built Oriental wife screwed her ass back against his finger, and he moved it in her, twirling it around in the flesh depths of her back passage. He could feel his prick through the thin wall of tissue separating her vagina from her anal passage as his fat, hardened rod of flesh moved in and out of her. Now, he began to move his finger in time to his cock, skewering her with both punishing instruments, reveling in the ecstasy of the dual ravishment.

Nina mewled, gurgled, moaned and groaned with passion, the sounds coming from deep in her throat, interspersed with sharp gasps of pleasure as he pistoned, smoothly, in and out of her cunt and wildly clenching tiny asshole simultaneously.

Clay knew that she was nearing her climax, as she continued to mouth obscenities, driving him onward to greater effort, his own passion rising and spiraling toward the summit and a final thrusting, jabbing, spewing ejaculation. His cock became even harder and stiffer, growing to full blood-engorged erection, and he was painfully aware of the dammed up flood waiting to be released.

She was wild, delirious and uncontrolled as she came nearer and nearer to her moment, that time of exquisite rapture.

"Oh fuck it! Fuck my cunt! Fuck my ass! Fuck me harder… oh, fuck… fuck meeeeeeeeeee!" she chanted in wild abandon, increasing the speed, demanding her rightfully due orgasm, and she began the rushing, spiraling, giddy flight to the heights, where she felt as though she were a parachutist bailing out of a speeding airplane at fifteen thousand feet, and she was falling free, spinning free in a fall through space, the earth rushing up to meet her in climax; then gently, the brightly-hued umbrella of the parachute exploded over her head and floated her gently back to earth. It was as in a dream that she heard herself.

"I'm cuuuuuuu mmmmmmm iiiiiii nnnnnnn ggggggg… aaaaaaaaaaaaaa hhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

As Nina screamed with the pleasure of her orgasm, Clay was spurred on to his own. He was in her, moving faster and faster, longer and harder and his hardened cock was like a machine, the piston of him moving in her with short, powerful strokes. He felt the load begin in his balls, pumping through the length of his penis, spewing in jerking jets of white viscous sperm far up into her cunt; while the spasms of pleasure shot through him in mind-shattering, body-reeling waves of sensuality. His cock continued to jump as he collapsed atop her with a huge groan of satiation.

"Jesus Christ!" he groaned. "I'm still cumming… I'm uuuu nnnnn gggg hhh… ccc uuuu mmmmm iiii ninnnn ggggggg!"

In a few moments he rolled from atop her, his now flaccid prick pulling from her with a liquid, sucking sound, trailing a string of semen, as he crawled lazing from the discomfort of the glass table top where he had been able to see everything reflected back.

He went over to the bar and poured two fresh martinis, bringing one to his wife, who, meanwhile had slipped off the table and was now reclining on the brocaded sofa. A vision of golden Oriental loveliness against the whiteness of the rich fabric made his cock begin to pound once more.

As he stretched out beside her, handing her a drink, she said, "You know I had a long talk with Alyce Frampton this afternoon, dear."

Marsdale was immediately interested. "And what did my nosy little wife find out?"

Nina inhaled deeply from her cigarette before she answered, "You just can't credit it, Clay, but that ravishingly beautiful girl has never had a decent fuck in her life. She doesn't get off on sex at all. I guess she's only been married a few months but it appears that husband of hers doesn't know what to do with that big hunk of meat of his."

"Well, I dare say, we can rectify that," he said leeringly, reaching out for his wife's pubic mound, still moist from the pleasant departure of a few moments before.

Obscenely, Nina Marsdale opened her thighs wide to his exploring fingers, at the same time taking a large swallow of her martini.

Then, she said dreamily, "I'd like to teach that husband of hers a few things… oh, that hunk of meat, Clay! It's too wonderful! Can we go back and look at that videotape you made?"

"Sure, darling, just promise me you won't leave your old daddy for one of those newer models."

"Never," she said, giving him a long lingering kiss.

Then, his rummaging fingers had found the bud of her clitoris, and he pressed the button of her sex, the explosion of sensation in her causing her to clamp her thighs tightly together, clamping his hand closely against her, heightening her pleasure. Then, her pelvis began to move in tiny circles of fully re-awakening desire.

"Oh, Clay, there will never be anyone else like you," she squealed, as she flung herself atop him, pinning his body to the couch, her lips and mouth avid upon him.

CHAPTER FOUR

Alyce Frampton could not imagine how it was possible that Eddie could be staying out so late with two men discussing their backhands. Usually, he shunned going out after hours with his students at the tennis clinic and this evening it just didn't make any sense that he would be out past midnight. She tried to wait up for him as she had read several articles on sexual techniques in marriage and she was eager to show her husband of three months that she was not an uptight little prude, but a loving responsive wife, willing to take pleasure and give pleasure.

Finally, disappointed and worried about the future of her marriage, she had gone to bed; however, she could not sleep. Her mind churned her thoughts into a morass of doubts and suspicions that threatened to drag her into the depths of despair.

The more the young blonde wife tossed and turned and craved for the dark curtain of sleep to spread across the window of her mind, the more alert she became. After what seemed like hours, she resorted to her medicine cabinet's treasures where she took a sleeping pill. Long before her adulterous husband returned she was dead to the world in her narcotic induced sleep. Eddie was glad to see that she was asleep and he did not try to rouse her.

***

Another young wife, however, had had a much more exciting evening. Sally Dunn who was in reality "the couple of guys for backhand makeup lessons and drinks afterwards" had gone to the tennis club at closing time where she had met Alyce's husband, Eddie. The two adulterers had coupled almost immediately, frantically, tearing at each other's clothing, exposing the softness and the hardness of flesh and blending them quickly in the headlong pursuit of their carnal desires.

The infinite desperation of their later lovemaking left them both sexually satiated and tingling with delirious mental, emotional and physical exhaustion. Then they had slept nude upon the sofa in the lobby of the darkened tennis club, and when they had awakened it was already two o'clock in the morning.

"Suffering Christ!" he exclaimed, looking at his digital watch. "It's two o'clock!"

Sally unconcerned crept closer into his arms, snuggling against him and reaching down between them to caress his flaccid cock, in an attempt to arouse him once more.

"Kiss me," she murmured low and throaty.

Briefly, Eddie kissed her with cool lips, breaking away before tongues were entwined to say, "Sally, for God's sake! We've got to get out of here. What would your husband say and my wife is going to kill me."

Dreamily Sally offered, "Oh, David's not expecting me. He's playing in that tournament so I told him I was going to stay with my sister. The time's not important to me."

"Well, why the hell didn't you tell me before," he said in a slightly irritated fashion. "We could have gone to a motel or something and I would have made up an excuse for Alyce."

Sally Dunn merely ignored his annoyance. She wasn't interested in a petty lecture. There was a big cock at her disposal and she wanted more of it and she would not be detoured from her destination. The pert brunette rolled over on top of him and ground her pelvis down on him, forcing his limp prick to lie in the furrow of her cock-hungry, insatiable cunt while she moved her hips lewdly, demandingly; meanwhile, using her lips and mouth on his body.