She would use her hand as she'd done that night so long ago. And she would watch herself rubbing her own cunt in the mirror. Perhaps it was a retaliatory act to repay Art for his neglected duty. She thought of the blonde girl in the movie. Would that girl have done the same thing? Another sip of her red wine, and Kathy was convinced that big bosomed girl would have done just that.
Sighing with frustration, the nearly naked woman turned on her back and cupped her ripely mature breasts in her hands, exploringly squeezing and rolling the pliant flesh, teasing the rising nipples until they were hard and throbbing, and finding the sensation surprisingly rewarding. Her breath became more labored, as her searching fingers slowly slid up and down the warm swells of her smooth, unblemished body. She held back from contact with her cunt for a long time, until she could feel the warm fluids begin to flow from her dilating pussy. Then one hand moved through the soft bush of curling pubic hair, barely touching her moistened cuntal slit.
"Ooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" the redhead moaned involuntarily, her rich, full lips parting with her ever-increasing passion. Her fingers danced lightly over her aroused pussy, feeling the droplets of cunt juice forming along the palpitating furrow of her pussy. Her hands moved to the acutely sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, caressing their ivory-hued smoothness, and she lightly scraped the velvet skin with her fingernails as her entire body began to slowly undulate on the bed. She realized that she hadn't locked the door and that would certainly be embarrassing if Art walked in on her while she was stretched out on the bed with her hands between her parted legs. But then, she reconsidered, it just might serve him right. If he were less of a cop and more of a husband, I wouldn't have to do this.
To hell with him, thought Kathy defiantly, surprised at her own acidulous attitude.
Knees raised, her long legs splayed wide, Kathy finally dipped her fingers into the seething folds of her cunt. Aaahhh! She was wet and ready… ready for a hell of a lot more than just her hand!
Full of yearning, the young wife spread open the soft, swollen flanges of her cunt, arching her back and thrusting her pelvis toward the ceiling. She traced the delicate line of her coral-hued pussy lips with the fingers of her right hand, torturing herself with the maddening touch of her nails. She sought and found the erect bud of her clitoris and slowly rubbed the sensitive organ with a circular motion of her thumb until it throbbed urgently with uncontrollable desire. And then she began to run her fingers up and down the full length of her cuntal slit, even into the smooth crease of her tight ass cheeks until her fingertips brushed across the tiny puckered ring of her anus.
Faster and faster her hand moved, until the copious juices of her unquenchable passion were flowing from deep in her churning loins, coating her fingers with a slippery wetness. With a sudden movement, the auburn-haired wife fucked her middle finger all the way up into the steaming warmth of her flexing cuntal channel.
"Ooohhh!" the lust incited redhead gasped. Her finger was so small, when what she wanted most was to be filled to the bursting point with a blood-engorged male cock! Furiously, she began to fuck the stiffened digit in and out of her deprived pussy, whimpering with every stroke. One finger was just not enough. In desperation, she sent another, and still another finger up into her well-lubricated cunt, stretching her pussy as wide as her husband's thick cock would have, but not going anywhere near deep enough into her ravenous pussy to satisfy the prurient fire that was now raging out of control deep within her too-long-deprived loins.
But what else could Kathy do? Her thumb was hitting her clitoris with every thrust, bringing her just to the brink, but no further, of a climactic orgasm. Then she thought of a lewd addition to this shameful act of self-stimulation, something she had never even thought of doing before. But her desperate physical need was overshadowing any rational objection to such a totally depraved act.
Scissoring her long legs and rolling onto her side, Kathy reached behind herself with her left hand and wantonly split her ass cheeks apart, exposing the tiny ring of her anus to the cool night air. Then she put the middle finger of her right hand into her mouth, her tongue swirling over it, coating its entire length with her saliva. Suddenly she arched her back and thrust her smoothly rounded buttocks outward, and pressed her moistened middle finger against her resisting anus.
"Oooohhh!" she gasped as the finger stretched the restraining sphincter muscle and finally popped into the tight, wet depths of her rectum. She lay still for a moment, then began to undulate her pelvis in little circular motions. Having her finger fucked in her anus was a totally new sensation for the love-starved woman. Relentlessly, she forced her finger even deeper into her clenching anal hole, working it in and out until finally the palm of her hand was slapping against her wide-splayed buttocks. Rocking her pelvis back and forth, she began to screw more and more savagely into her clasping rectum while her thumb urgently stroked the tingling bud of her clitoris. "Aaahhh!" Kathy groaned in ever mounting salacious pleasure.
In the big mirror she could see her hand as a dim blur flashing in and out of her puckered anus and could feel her nails scraping the sensitive inner flesh of her cuntal and rectal passages, but the slight pain only caused her to increase the fury and violence of her manual fucking. She could feel it building… she was cumming!
Abruptly a sea of fire spread like a tidal wave through her quaking belly, making her inner cunt muscles frantically clench and spurt great gushes of thick, whitish cum from the contracting lips of her burning hot cunt down over her fingers and the insides of her thrashing thighs and the widespread crack of her spasming buttocks. Kathy knew that her orgasmic fluid would stain the sheets of the bed, but she didn't care as the rich aroma of her satiated pussy reached her flaring nostrils. She kept both hands plunging into her straining cunt until she could cum no more without screaming aloud.
Then, drained and exhausted, she collapsed flat on her back, her hair making a dark red splash on the rumpled pillows. Kathy raised her head, took one look at her reddened cheeks, her disheveled hair, and smeared mascara and started to cry.
OH God! It was wonderful but terrible at the same time. Bittersweet, as Beaudelaire would have put it. What was happening to her? How could she have done such a disgraceful thing? She reached for a Kleenex in the headboard of her marital bed, and dabbed at her eyes, examining the black streaks on the soiled tissue as if it were the sins of the past fifteen minutes. Kathy sobbed harder and, pulling back the coverlet, buried her head in the pillow and pretended she was asleep when Art finally slipped in beside her.
He reached out to touch her and, getting no encouraging response, rolled over on his stomach and tried to sleep. The phone call that night had distressed him, added to his enigmaed mind. Supposedly, a paid informer had reported that the dealers were bringing in six hundred pounds of top grade marijuana. How they would get it to its point of distribution, the informer didn't say… or know, though a rented U-Haul truck was suspected. But the main crux of the dilemma would be finding that one vehicle among the hundreds that would line the road outside of the Olson farm that weekend. Another clue: the big time dealers might use a decoy, something to take the heat off the real operation, something to slow down the cop's pace. A pigeon… a fat pigeon. Now what could that mean?
CHAPTER THREE
Other than the bowling alley, there was only one place for the minors of Elston to frequent – a place affectionately called "The Hole". There, in the secret darkness of the basement below one of the local bars, teenagers came to shoot pool, smoke cigarettes and make connections for paying off an older teenager to buy beer for a weekend party. No adults were allowed in, except for the owner; not that any adults would want to choke on the smokey air or drink in the musty odors of the damp cement walls that sponged up the summer rains. No females either, except for the very loosest, the ones looking for a lay.